Harry Potter and the Tome of the Old
by Silithos the Chosen
Summary: A bleak summer is interrupted when Harry encounters Death Eaters in the park of Little Whinging. New Powers, new questions, and a new perspective on his life awaits Harry in his Sixth Year. AU after OOtP. Super!Harry.
1. A Fight

Harry stared at the ceiling of his dark room, lost in thought. If only, if only... he couldn't keep those thoughts from invading, no matter how hard he tried. The bedside table shook as a new wave of sadness swept over him at the memory of his Godfather. He took some deep breaths and tried to control himself. The Dursleys would not take it lightly if the furniture started breaking again, when they'd had a weeklong reprieve. His thoughts drifted to the first day back, and as he fell into a fitful sleep, he dreamed.

He sat in the living room, totally unmotivated to watch the news. The others in the room kept casting glances, but they were to scared to say anything. The Order's intimidation at the train station had gone over even better then they had planned. Aunt Petunia had served him a full portion of dinner, and they were even allowing him to watch TV with them for the evening. Though he didn't really care much, he was distantly grateful that they were at least being neutral. He should have known it couldn't last.

It was Dudley who made the wrong move, predictably. He was tired of being restrained by his parents, and the separation of a few hours had lessened his fear of the wizards. Taking in his sad features, he commented to his cousin.

"What's wrong, Potter? You look like your dog just died." He laughed to himself, oblivious to the reaction he had caused in the young wizard. There was a stab of pain as the mocking comment penetrated his gloom, which was swiftly followed by rage. How dare he make fun of my pain! They never know what goes on, what I'm going through! I can't...

This was about the time the TV set exploded. The sparks and flying parts surprised Harry, but Uncle Vernon reacted quickly, getting the fire extinguisher and making sure there was no danger. They all cast more glances his way, but now they were even more scared. He took a deep breath and spoke to them.

"It would probably be best if you didn't talk to me. I'll be up in my room." With that he left them.

That had been a couple of weeks ago, and the TV wasn't the only thing to suffer. They had stopped replacing the light bulbs in his room, because they kept fizzing out. The worst damage had been done when mad-eye Moody had stopped by to personally to check his status. They had engaged in a silent conversation, and the old auror had made the mistake of mentioning Bellatrix Lestrange and Sirius in the same sentence. The china cabinet had exploded, the light fixture had come crashing down, and the table they were sitting at had cracked. After repairing everything, he had beaten a retreat, no doubt to inform Dumbledore. Harry had spent the following five days in his room, trying not to succumb to the bleak depression. It had been easier to stave it off when Ron and Hermione were there. Their presence served to remind him about all the good that he had discovered when he had entered the wizarding world. When they weren't there, only the pain and suffering came to mind. It became so bad that he sometimes wished that Hagrid had never come for him. Then maybe Sirius would still be alive, and possibly even Cedric as well. It was Hedwig that kept his mind intact. He had to care for her, so there was a minor goal for him to accomplish. It wasn't much, but it helped with the day to day living.

Harry sat on the swing of the park, occasionally pushing a little bit, but mostly staring off into space. The equipment had miraculously been fixed one night, and no matter how Dudley and his gang tried to break it again, it was always back to normal by morning. He suspected that his guard was responsible, since he tended to frequent the area during the long daytime hours. He thought about the prophecy, and decided that he really didn't care if he lived or died. Voldemort was bound to get him one of these days, and it might even be a relief. Not having to deal with all of life's pain might be worth a fight to the death. He started swinging at that thought, trying to decide how he wanted to go down. Sirius had always said that a blaze of glory was best, but...

His thoughts were interrupted by a little boy who slid to a stop beneath his swing. He stood up and dusted himself off frantically. When he saw Harry sitting there, he gave a start. He must have recognized him, because his eyes widened and he put out his hands as if to ward this new terror off. Harry noticed that he had something in his hands, but before he could take a closer look, Dudley and his thugs showed up at the edge of the park. The boy looked up at the whoops of triumph the bullies gave, and seemed to make a decision. He turned pleading eyes to Harry, not saying anything, and saying everything at the same time. Harry considered it.

It wasn't really that long ago that Harry had been in this very position, and nobody had helped him. Maybe it was time to offset the karma. He jerked his head towards the back of the swing. With a grateful look, the exhausted boy took up a position at the rear. Harry waited calmly for the others to come his way. Dudley seemed to hesitate when he saw who was swinging there, but he eventually led his group over.

"We're here for the peck, Potter. If you know what's good for you, you'll turn him over." He didn't really want to confront his cousin, but he didn't see any way out of this without losing face. Harry gave a small smirk, the most he could manage nowadays.

"Why don't you just leave him be Dudley? I'm sure there's some other eleven-year-old that you out number five to one and out weigh by a ton you could beat up." Dudley's face turned red as he tried to think of some way to leave the area immediately. His friends, however, moved forward in anticipation. It had been a long time since they had beaten up the Potter kid, and they felt like reliving the old times. "As a matter of fact, I'm sure that's how you win all of your matches." Harry was warming up to his subject now. I had been quite a while since he had felt any satisfaction, and he wasn't about to stop. "Just find someone half your height, age, and weight, beat them unmercifully and presto, a new champ." His mocking tone of voice was what finally drove Dudley off the bend.

"At least I didn't go and get myself killed, like your stupid Godfat.." Dudley covered his mouth in horror. The smirk on Harry's face had disappeared, and his eyes were narrowed. Looking to the sides, he noticed that the other swings were starting to move without anyone touching them.

"Who told you?" His cousin's voice was cold and abrupt, though the other gang members didn't seem to notice. Dudley swallowed hard.

"I heard mum talking to some of your kind, and that's what they were talking about." The swings were going harder, now, and he was looking for the best way to leave when his friends spoke up.

"So, some stupid relative of yours bit it, huh? Well I guess that's just-" that was as far as he got before the swings snapped from their holders. They started whipping the boys, eventually chasing them from the park altogether. Harry put his face in his hands, and rubbed it. He was really in trouble, now. Doing magic in front of the muggles. That's what he got for goading Dudley like that. He was never going to learn, was he? The sooner Voldemort finished the job, the better. He noticed that the boy was hiding his head, and wondered if he was cowering from the thugs or hiding from the magic.

"They're gone now." When he got to his feet, Harry noticed he still had a bruise on the left side of his face. He brushed himself off again, this time more slowly, and Harry finally got a better look at what he was carrying. A parchment envelope with a wax seal. He could just make out the letter H, and the animals surrounding it. Harry almost burst out laughing at the thought that there was another wizard in his area. He held out his hand. "So, what's your name?" The boy looked at his hand suspiciously, no doubt going over the rumors that flew around about Harry Potter. Since he had just saved him, however, he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He shook the hand firmly and replied.

"Mark Evans. I was trying to take a walk to think when the Lump started chasing me." His voice was firm and clear, though it was obvious that Dudley terrified him.

"Welcome to the _wonderful_" and he couldn't stop the sarcasm from entering his voice here, "world of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." To say that the look on Mark's face was shock would be understating it. In fact, it drew out Harry's first real smile in weeks. When the shock wore off, however, he felt like he was dealing with another Colin Creevy. Mark started a racing explanation of how he had gotten the letter, and how there were wizards with his parents even now, and how he was confused, so he went for a walk. Harry remembered how excited he had been and simply patted him on the shoulder, lest he try to taint the young boys views with his own bitter experiences. He was about to bid him goodbye when he felt a tingle run up and down his body. He looked around, all sense of gloom or happiness gone now. His adrenalin was pumping, and he would be ready. They were coming. He told Mark to run back to his house and get whoever was there. Not having missed Harry's rapid transformation from sad laughter to dead seriousness, he took off. Harry heard a high pitched, crazy laughter in his head, and knew that the hated woman would be here soon. He reached for his wand... and discovered that it wasn't there! He cursed himself for his inattention, and tried to ready himself as best he could. He had a horrible feeling that this would be the day he died, and there was barely a twinge of fear. His only real concern was making sure that Mark managed to make it back to his house.

Then the cracks started. There were five in total, and he was surrounded. The insane laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange rang in his ears, and he could only glare at her with hatred. He felt a smack hit the back of his head, and he was suddenly on the ground. She nudged him with her foot, and he tried to grab it. A swift kick to his side convinced him that it wouldn't be a good idea.

"So what have we here, baby Potter? No wand? The death of my mongrel cousin must have you distracted." She started on her insane laughter again, and Harry's anger was rising. He longed to face her in a duel, but he knew that would never happen. It appeared that this was his end. He growled a little, but did nothing else.

"Hey, Bella." The man holding Harry down started shaking him. "The brat's getting kind of hot here." She nodded her head, because the heat rolling off of him was starting to get uncomfortable. Drawing her wand, she trained it on him.

"Maybe this will cool him off. _Crucio_!" The man behind him let go, but not soon enough to let him dodge the curse. As the pain racked his body, he thought that it wasn't as bad as it could be. The pain of Voldemort possessing his body was much worse, so he didn't scream out. This seemed to anger he all the more. "Well, it seems that we require a little something more." He saw her nod her head, and a moment latter another Death Eater showed up, dragging... Mark Evans. He shook his head. Though his anger had left, it was quickly making reappearance. Why did they have to drag the innocent into this? He may or may not deserve what they did to him, but Mark was just there. Then he saw what Bella was going to do, and his eyes widened. She had turned her wand to Mark, and Harry had no doubt of her intentions. Time seemed to slow down as she incanted "_Cru_-". Harry knew that a curse like that when you were so young, and weakened as he knew Mark to be, would no doubt cause permanent damage. Struggling past the remaining pain from his torture, he threw himself at the paralyzed boy, knocking him to the ground and coving him with his own body. There was no way to avoid the curse, but he figured it was worth it.

Until he got hit. For some reason, this one seemed even worse than the last. He screamed as the pain made its way through his body. This was it. If he didn't die from this, he was probably going to lose his mind. Then the pain seemed to merge with something inside of him, and there were flames. He heard his enemies screaming in pain, and raised his head. Then he wished that he hadn't. The five Death Eaters were burning alive. Their screams filled his head, and he knew that he had done this. Then he blacked out.

Nymphadora Tonks skidded to a halt as there were screams from the park she had just abandoned. She cursed her inattention and headed back at full speed. What she saw stopped her heart. Harry was under the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange, and an innocent boy was being dragged towards them. When she turned her wand to the other captive, Tonks knew she had to hurry. The madwoman's favorite spell would most likely destroy someone that young, she was sure. Before she could get close enough to have effect, however, the choice was taken out of her hands. She saw the light leave her wand, and run straight into the back of Harry Potter! He had jumped in front of the curse and was now shielding the little boy, though he was obviously in great pain.

Later, she would still swear to seeing what she saw, though it was confusing at the time. A wave of light seemed to pulse off of the writhing young man, and the Death Eaters surrounding him burst into flames. She shuddered at their screams, and ran all the faster. By the time she got there, however, she knew she was beyond to late to save them. Five smoldering piles surrounded an unconscious Harry potter and she swallowed hard. This was going to be trouble.


	2. Return To Pain

Minerva McGonagall started in the residence of the Evans' when vibrations passed through the necklace next to her chest. This could only mean something had gone horribly wrong, as that was her Order of the Phoenix emergency contact. She excused herself from the home of the soon the be student and briskly walked down the street. Making sure that no one was around, she talked into the device she was instructed to carry always.

"What has happened?" She expected Albus to answer, but was surprised to hear Nymphadora instead.

"You need to get to the park by Phoenix Child right away." She started to have trouble breathing. That was Harry's code name, and by Tonks' voice, something very dire had happened. Doing another sweep of her surroundings, she Apparated to the park, a place everyone had been briefed on, seeing as how Harry spent much time there. What she saw made her eyes water.

Harry lay very still, surrounded by five still smoking marks on the ground. She started breathing again, and started towards him, but before she could reach him, he started moving. She gave a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. Her new young charge, Mark Evans, crawled out from under the still form of one of her favorite students. He shuddered when he saw what was around him and shook Harry gently.

"Wake up, their gone. Come on, wake up." He seemed ready to start panicking, so Minerva stepped in quickly to prevent that. She put her hand on his shoulder and tried to comfort him.

"Now Mark-" She wasn't prepared for his reaction. He gave a shriek of fear and shuffled closer to Harry, seeking protection. His still arm seemed to shift slightly, and she suddenly felt very unsure as to what she was doing. She only had a second for doubt, however, before the feeling was made physical. She felt a burning sensation across her hand and stepped back quickly.

The two students were surrounded by heat waves in the air, and she was sure of the fact that stepping into that area would results in very serious burns. She drew her wand to banish the heat, and then hesitated. No doubt Harry had put the field up as some sort of protective reflex, and it would probably last only as long as he felt threatened. However, he couldn't possibly be very strong at the moment, and forcibly breaking this magic might very well injure him even further. She turned to the young woman beside her, who was shaking her hand after trying to pass the barrier.

"What has happened, Tonks?" The Auror looked ashamed, and cleared her throat.

"Well, I followed Harry to the park, under cover, of course. He wasn't looking to happy, but I didn't want to intrude on his grief. That's when- what did you call him? Mark? That's when Mark came running up, clutching his Hogwarts letter and being chased by that oaf of a cousin of Harry's. Harry told Mark to step behind him, and he was in the process of getting the bully's to go away when they started making cracks about his _dead godfather_." Here Tonks' voice turned harsh, and she waited a minute before she continued. "That's when Harry broke the swings off of the bars and started beating them." Minerva shook her head in exasperation. She had heard of Harry's loss of control, but this was a little more than she had expected. "Anyway, the swings chased them right out of the park and, well, I followed them to do damage control." She started looking ashamed again at this, and for good reason. Minerva didn't exactly blame her for her actions, but she knew that some would. She gestured for her to continue, and the younger woman took a breath. "I heard some screaming, and I rushed right back. When I got here, they were Cruciating him." She shuddered and tears started falling from her eyes, but she struggled on. "Then they dragged Mark up. I think they were trying to get Harry to cooperate or something, because she was going to start in on him. She cast the Cruciatus, and Harry jumped right in front of it! He tackled the boy and covered him with his own body. I don't know if I could do that, but he didn't even hesitate." Minerva tried to get past the pride and pain she was feeling, and get back to the story.

"What happened next, Tonks?"

"Well, I was about to intervene, when there was a...well the best way to describe it is pulse of light. It surrounded the two boys, and suddenly the Death Eaters were burning. When my vision cleared, Harry was unconscious and they dead. How are we going to get him out of here if we can't touch him? Surely you can..." Tonks left the sentence unfinished when Minerva shook her head.

"I could almost certainly dispel this heat field, but take a look at Harry. He's not in very good condition, and breaking his spell might make things worse instead of better. I'm afraid that he's going to have to get rid of it himself, and he's only going to take it down when he feels safe." She looked at the still sleeping young man and shook her head. "We obviously don't qualify for his full and total trust." Tonks looked offended, but Minerva knew that teenagers often saw adults as the enemy, and also that in Harry's unique case that was often true. She grabbed the pendent around her neck and prepared to find those most likely to be trusted. "Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley, Remus Lupin. Park by Phoenix Child, emergency." She thought a second and added, "acquire Match and Worm." She caught the curious look on Tonks' face, and shrugged. "Those are the only people that he might trust. Now we wait for them."

Hermione Granger gave herself a shake as her head spun. Two person Apparition was an unpleasant experience, she couldn't wait until she got her license. Those thoughts were driven from her head when she saw what was in front of her.

"Harry!" She tried to rush to his side, but she was restrained by a number of hands. She saw that the Headmaster was here, as was Tonks and Professor McGonagall. Behind her, Remus was looking ill. "What happened to him?" The aging Headmaster shook his head, and simply avoided the question.

"Ms. Granger, you have been called here to help us calm Mr. Potter, should we fail." With a frown, he looked around. "Where are Molly and young Mr. Weasley?" Remus answered, overriding Hermione's questions.

"Molly has gone in search of her son. He went out with Fred and George, and you know how hard it can be to find those two." Albus shook his head again, and returned to the matter at hand.

"As you can see, Harry is not in very good shape, and he needs medical attention. However, he has put a heat shield in place, possibly to protect young Mr. Evans, there." Hermione looked again, and was startled to see a young boy hunched up next to her friend. "Now, for reasons that are fairly evident, we have decided that breaking the shield would be a bad idea, so we must convince Harry to dispel it on his own. However, this is complicated by the fact that it won't allow either Minerva or Tonks through. We've been call together because it is likely that among out number will be someone Harry trusts enough to let close. It will then be that person's task to calm him to a point where the shield collapses. All of the order members will go first, and then, if that doesn't work, the students will try." He didn't even wait for their nods of understanding, he just strode over to the still form that he had dedicated many years of his life to. Moving his hand slowly, he approached the shimmers in the air. As he made contact, however, they appeared to start moving faster, and he quickly drew back, a very sad expression on his face. Almost to himself, he mumbled "It appears I have not been forgiven." In a louder voice, he stated "Remus, you're next." The werewolf stepped up to the boy, carefully extending his hand. The shimmers didn't react to him at first, and there seemed to be glimmers of hope on the faces of the adults, but a couple of inches in he suddenly pulled his hand back out.

"They warned me out" he said by way of explanation. Albus nodded his understanding, and finally turned to Hermione.

"Now, child, I'm afraid I must ask you to try your hand. If you feel any sort of danger, withdraw immediately. Should you pass, try _very calmly _to get him to lower the shield." He looked her in the eye, and she nodded briskly. She approached the shield, trying to quash the fear rising from her stomach. She put out her hand, moving at a torturous pace, until she made contact. To her surprise, the shield felt only pleasantly warm. She sped up slightly, until her whole arm was amid the shimmers. Looking back towards the Headmaster, who gave her an encouraging nod, she continued in, until her entire body had passed through the shield. She knelt down to her fallen friend and placed her hand on his arm. Other than a slight flinch, during which she tensed, he didn't react. She started combing his sweaty hair with her fingers, hoping to make him feel safer. She had indeed forgotten about the many adults waiting nearby. He was so skinny! And he looked ill. Surely someone was taking care of him.

"Harry? It's me, Hermione." At her words, the boy looked up, alarmed, and made to scramble away from her. He was stopped, however, when a pale hand gripped his arm. They both looked down into a pair of weary green eyes, and relief was evident all around.

"It's alright, Mark. This is a good friend of mine, Hermione Granger." She was shocked at how grating and tired his voice sounded, but she enveloped him in a bone crushing hug none the less. He chuckled hoarsely. "Yes, I'm happy too, but could you ease up?" She let him go, blushing hard and stuttering an apology, but that made him laugh all the harder. After a minute, he grabbed his side and started coughing. She automatically grabbed his hands, and tried to help him through the fit. She heard some sounds behind her, but ignored them. Soon, however, a voice broke through.

"What's going on, Professor?" She turned her head to find Ron standing right behind her, being restrained by Professor McGonagall. She noticed Harry turning his head too, and suddenly remembered what the others had asked her to do.

"Harry, you need to take down the shield." He turned a quizzical expression to her and blinked.

"The what?" She was taken aback by his confusion, and filled him in on the happenings of the past couple of minutes. He only now seemed to notice the others standing there, waiting for the go ahead to help him. As soon as she finished explaining, the shimmering shield vanished, and he tried to stand up. She helped him to his feet and he started apologizing. "I guess I've gone and done it again. Sorry you had to come.." he slumped over here, and only the quick actions of Ron and Hermione that he didn't fall on his face. Mark gave a small shriek and tried to help, but there wasn't really room, so he settled for wringing his hands nervously. The Headmaster was in the middle of making a portkey, and the other adults were making plans of what to tell everyone. It was decided that Harry Aunt and Uncle would be told he was leaving for the rest of the summer, and Mark would have his memory modified. At this Harry spoke up, telling them he would not allow that. Minerva looked shocked.

"Seriously, Mr. Potter, we can't allow him to enter the school with this on his shoulders." He simply shook his head and looked directly in the eye of the Headmaster.

"Better a fearful truth than a happy lie." There was an almost accusing tone in his voice, and the Headmaster sighed again.

"He is right, Minerva." He made to speak with him, but was cut off by Harry.

"Listen, Mark, they're going to take you home now. I won't be around for the rest of the summer, but I'll see you back at school. If you have any questions, or just want to talk..." he trailed off until a snowy white owl came from nowhere and landed primly on Marks shoulder, hooting softly. In her claws she carried Harry's wand, of all things. He smiled fondly at her, taking possession of it. "Write me a letter and Hedwig will bring it to me. You will, won't you girl?" She trained an eye on him, as if wondering whether he could survive the summer without her. After a minute, she hooted her assent, giving his hand a nuzzle when he petted her. Mark's eyes were wide in awe, but he let himself be led away by Professor McGonagall and Tonks, who was telling him about the care of owls and the role they played in the wizarding world. When he drew his attention back to the others, Albus was holding out an old sock. They all grabbed it together and the world blurred around them. When his vision cleared, he knew he was back.

Hermione watched Harry's face closely, looking for any sign that the sight of Grimmauld place would put him back in a stupor. She was relieved when he seemed to shrug it off, even if his eyes did look sadder. He started shuffling towards the kitchen, only to have his progress halted by Remus Lupin.

"Listen, Harry, we have to talk about this. Sirius left a will.." He stopped at the flash of intense pain that crossed the face of the young man, and nodded sympathetically. He was about to continue when a new expression crossed that face. A look of intense pain contorted his features, and from his mouth issued a screech that shook those around him. That was when he collapsed.


	3. Feelings

Harry was carried to the room he had occupied last summer, and Dumbledore followed, hoping to figure out what was happing to his favorite student. He carefully examined him, occasionally waving his wand over him, causing a few sparks, but nothing more drastic. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny watched on, praying for an end to this. Finally, Dumbledore's wand came to rest on Harry's forehead. There was a flash, and as soon as the light cleared, there were gasps from everyone in the room. Harry was covered head to toe in a pulsing, greasy, black web. Whenever there was a new pulse, his writhing and moaning intensified. Nobody looked more horrified then the Headmaster, however. Muttering could be heard from his lips.

"No. Not again." Before they could ask him what he meant, he fled the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The others stared at each other, frozen in shock before they managed to make it out of the door. They ran almost immediately into Neville, who managed to keep his balance.

"Hey, guys, what's going on? Gran gets a call from HQ, and we come rushing ov..." His voice trailed off as he caught a glimpse of the person on the bed. "Oh my god, what happened?" Ron and Hermione shook their heads, rushing to the edge of the stairs. Pilling out some of the twins' new improved extendable ears, they started listening in.

"...worse news then I could have imagined." The voice of the Headmaster was filled with pain, and it broke more than once, to their surprise. Then a new voice entered the conversation.

"No doubt Potter is seeking more attention for himself. Always playing the hero, he should have left that boy be." The cold, biting voice of the Potions Master held an amused tone, reveling in the situation. Any other comments he would have made were cut off.

"I hate to ruin your fun, _Severus_," and they had never heard him be so cold towards his employee, "but I hardly think the _Mal Dumier _is a laughing matter!" His pronouncement was followed by a silence that seemed to stop time. Ron removed the extendable ear and glanced over at Hermione. She looked horrified, and there seemed to be tears in her eyes. Before he could ask any questions, however, he was interrupted by the screaming of his mother.

"NO, NO! IT CAN'T BE TRUE, ALBUS! YOU'RE LYING!" Ron was shocked that she would yell at him like that. When he glanced back again, he saw that Hermione had fled back to the bedroom. He quickly followed her. When he arrived, he noticed that Neville had taken up Ginny's place at the foot of the bed, and she was no where to be seen. He was staring in horror at the black web that encased his year mate. Hermione sat at the edge of the bed, crying her eyes out. Ron slowly approached her.

"What does it mean, Hermione? What's the Mol Durmir?" Neville's head snapped up, and he looked wide-eyed.

"You can't mean the _Mal Dumier_ curse? That's insane. Who would..." When his voice drifted off, Hermione snorted in anger through her tears.

"Oh, that's what he meant, of course. Apparently, someone thought it would be fun to cast that spell on Harry." When she said his name, a new wave sobs started, and she buried her face in her hands. Meanwhile, Neville was looking sick to his stomach. Ron shook him a little. Losing his dazed look, Neville bit his lip.

"The _Mal Dumier _curse is one of the oldest pieces of dark magic there is, even older then the Killing curse. It's rarely performed, mostly because the power and hatred it requires is pretty rare. Also, anyone caught using it is automatically executed, without trial." Ron gave a start: even the Unforgivable curses were only punished by jail terms. The shock must have shown on his face, because Neville nodded his head. "That's how bad it is. It's even worse than the Cruciatus. When it's first cast, it seems to be nothing, until the victim remembers a bad event from his life. That's when the trap springs." He seemed unable to continue. Hermione cleared her throat and took up the explanation, although her voice was still hoarse with unshed tears.

"It takes all of the bad memories from your past, and it loops them. They play over and over again in your head. The spell prevents anything good from being remembered. Every time a new memory starts, there is a corresponding amount of pain transferred to the body. Eventually, the victim t.tortures himself to death." When she had gotten this out her eyes seemed to lose their focus, and she started staring off into space. Neville gulped, and glanced to Harry again. The occasional pulsed of the web followed by more moaning seemed to have increased in frequency. Ron ran his fingers through his hair, looking for some good new.

"But...but there's a chance he can beat it, right? I mean, he can throw off the Imperius curse, surely he can..." He faltered when Neville shook his head.

"Out of the all of the cases that have been recorded, only two people have broken the curse, and afterwards, they were never the same. They seemed to have given up on emotions altogether to escape the torture." He shuddered at the last, and then a scared look passed over his features. "Hermione, no!" Ron checked to see what she was doing, and his heart froze. She was reaching out to touch the evil black web, almost in a trance. Both of the boys grabbed an arm, trying to stop her, but it was to late. She made contact with the spell, and suddenly they couldn't let go. Emotions ran like fire through them, until there seemed to be no end to then. There was a small explosion behind their eyes, and they blacked out.

Alastor Moody gave a jerk when he heard the screams coming from the bedroom. They weren't coming from Potter this time, he was sure of that. With a small crack! he Apperated to the doorway of the room, stopping in surprise when he got there. The young Weasley was at the wall, trying the pummel it with his fists. The Longbottom boy was sobbing uncontrollably in the corner. It was the Granger girl that was screaming, however. She was grabbing at her sides, and the sounds coming from her mouth were filled with agony. There was a haunted look on her face, and it looked like she didn't even know he was there, though he was right in front of her. He was about to intervene when he became aware of a song permeating the room. When it reached a peak, there was a flash of flames in the center of the room, and Fawkes the Phoenix flew out of it. He circled the room, singing his song louder and louder until the whole house seemed to fill with it. He was aware of others appearing in the hall behind him, but he was so at peace that he didn't react at all. Eventually the song died out, and he realized that the three children had stopped their respective activities and were looking around, confused. He took a step into the room, only to step back out when he heard a new sound.

Another piercing scream split the air, filling then room. Harry potter was screaming at the top of his lungs, arching up from the bed and slamming his fists. This wasn't a scream of pain, however. The amount of rage in that sound was astonishing. In all of his years, he had only heard screams like that a couple of times, and never from sixteen-year-olds. Then he felt something that disturbed him even more. He barely had time to cast a shielding charm to fill the doorway before the whole room exploded. The vases of flowers shattered, the bedside furniture splintered, and the shelves came flying off of the walls. They circled the room, occasionally crashing into each. Molly gave a scream, obviously worried that the children were in danger. When Moody took a look, however, they were perfectly fine. As a matter of fact...

Taking a closer look with his magical eye, he made an astonishing discovery. Any object that seemed about to hit one of them suddenly swerved away, seeming of its own accord. Potter wasn't so lucky. Many of the smaller items hit him, but they seemed to do no damage. Of course, as soon as they made contact, they burst into flames. In two minutes time, all the flying objects suddenly paused, and then fell to the ground. He was interested to note that the three children were each surrounded by a foot of clear space in a perfect circle, but filed that away for later before he rushed to them, followed by Molly.

"What happened? Are you three alright?" She sounded panicked, and he couldn't blame her in the least. There was a haunted look in their eyes, and they were gazing at the boy on the bed in awe. They didn't speak for a while, still staring at him, before they whispered as one:

"I didn't know." They suddenly grabbed each other's hands, as if trying to share the last remnants of whatever they were feeling. Suddenly, he understood everything.

"You touched the spellweb, didn't you?" There was no hesitation before they nodded their heads. Ignoring the gasp that came from Albus, he continued with the questioning. "What did you feel?" He looked from one to another until Ron finally spoke.

"Angry. I felt really, really angry. I mean, I know Harry was angry sometimes, and I've seen his temper, but to actually feel it..." He shook his head as if to clear it, and continued. "I didn't know if I was ever going to calm down." When he stopped talking, Moody went to ask him what else there was when Neville interrupted him.

"I didn't feel that. There wasn't anything but sadness. A deep, drowning sadness. It felt like I would never be happy again. If that's what he feels, I don't know how he still walks around. The memory of it is almost enough to make me want to cry again." He started rubbing his arms, as if hoping to distract himself from the things he didn't want to remember. Moody was shocked, to say the least. How could they have felt different things? In the couple of cases he had seen, any people touching the victim shared any emotions. He turned his gaze towards Hermione, and was startled again to see that she had a crazy smile on her face.

"You guys got off lucky, it seems." They looked at her like she was insane. The things they had felt were certainly not funny. Then they noticed the look in her eyes. She was anything but smiling on the inside. "Do you know what it's like to be held by someone, to feel safe in their arms?" They slowly nodded their heads, obviously not seeing where this was going. "So do I. Harry doesn't. There was no one to hold him when he was scared, to soothe him when he was in pain, to praise him when he was good. His injuries were his own concern, and if he had died, no one around him would have cared in the least. No one to share those little patches of joy, few and far between though they were. And betrayal." At this, she glared over to the doorway, seeming to pin the Headmaster there with her eyes. "Kept ignorant by those he trusted and loved, even though the emotions were almost unknown to him. Asked to risk his life constantly for reasons he was unsure of. Given the taste of love and happiness occasionally, only to have it stripped from him over and over. Left to wallow in confusion and sometimes terror, when a simple word or two would have eased both. Hunted and _persecuted_," and with this she switched her gaze to the Potions Master, who looked paler than usual after the destruction he had witnessed, "by those who should know truth from lie, but cling to their personal fictions like little children cling to their stuffed toys in the dark." With this last word, the pale man she seemed to address sputtered in rage, turned on his heel and left. She looked towards Ron, and her face had softened considerably. She took his hand, and he gripped hers in return. "And hope. Love for the two people who seemed to say to him that the world was not a horrible place after all. People he would die for, gladly and without hesitation, if only to preserve the goodness they bring to the world. And finally fear. That those two people would be ripped from him, the ones who matter the most. When we are separate from him, he fears his life will spiral back into hell, and only the thought of our reunion keeps him going. His terror makes the hope all that stronger, which increases the fear even more. It's a vicious cycle, but he wouldn't give it up, only to return to the lonely, cold days of before." She let go of Ron's hands, and wiped her face, which was now covered with tears. "That was what I felt when I touched him. And if he's feeling all of those things, then it's a god blessed miracle that he hasn't been driven insane long before this."

After this last pronouncement, she got to her feet and made her unsteady way over to the bed, followed closely by Ron. They knelt at opposite sides and placed their hands close to him, though they were careful not to touch the web.

"It's okay, mate. Just take your time to sort things out, and we'll be here when you come out of it. We won't leave you." Ron's voice cracked when he spoke, but he still settled down to wait. Hermione nodded in affirmation, and settled on her side as well. They then ignored everyone else in the room.

There was a conference in the kitchen again, and the only one missing was Severus Snape, who had left the house altogether. Tonks took Albus Dumbledore to the side and informed him that all of the dark arts material seemed to have been destroyed. The elf heads were gone, the tapestry was a pile of ashes, and even the painting of Mrs. Black was a small pile of kindling at the entrance. He nodded to her before asking her to take a seat. Glancing over his shoulder at the stair, he finally entered and closed the door. There would be time later to investigate this happening, but that would wait. Once more his thoughts turned back to the boy on the bed, and he realized that he had harmed their relationship. For now he would think of ways to fix it, and hope that the two holding vigils by his bed would bring him back. He knew that he was again wrapped in the clutches of this evil curse, and could only hope that it would turn out better this time than it did the last.


	4. Welcome To My Mind

Harry stared confused at the forms fighting for dominion in front of him. One second he was rebelling against the image of the Dark Lord torturing and murdering his friends, and the next there was this battle. As far as he could tell, there were three different creatures involved.

The werewolf was by far the largest one, though this did nothing to deter the other two. The large black dog seemed to be everywhere at once, unpredictable and rapid. The last form surprised him the most, as it was a brilliant gold and red phoenix. It seemed incredibly out of place in this dark area.

The interactions between them were fascinating, too. A hit by the Phoenix seemed to increase the size of the werewolf drastically, as did a hit from the dog. Though the Phoenix and Dog did increase their respective sizes, it didn't happen nearly as quickly. Soon it was obvious that the werewolf would win out completely, and that was when Harry noticed the forth creature. A small snowy white owl flapped in a very frenzied manner, trying desperately to escape the maelstrom of the fight, and failing miserably. He felt a softness for that poor creature pervade him, and he knew suddenly that it was his job to bring the chaos under control. He strode over to the fight and stood there silently, considering the best way to halt this madness. It wasn't necessary to say anything, however, as the creatures all took note of him immediately. There was a small cession in their activities, and the owl took that opportunity to fly directly to him. He petted its feathers when it landed on his shoulder, feeling very connected to and protective of it. The werewolf made a move as if to charge at him, but a glance made it settle down. Another glance showed the other creatures watching him warily. He prepared to speak to them when he was rudely interrupted.

"My, isn't this the glorious get together?" The hissing, cold voice of the Dark Lord Voldemort rang through his head, and he knew that the time had come.

Hermione and Ron sat their silent vigil, each hoping that any second their friend would open his eyes and greet them.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice was still unsteady, and he seemed reluctant to ask the question he obviously wanted to. She turned a smile to him, though it was very weak. "Did you really mean those things you said earlier?" She shook her head at him. He didn't understand.

"Of course I didn't mean any of that personally." He seemed disappointed, until she continued on. "I couldn't mean it, because it didn't come from me. All the things I said came directly from Harry, Ron. Those are the things he feels, the things he thinks when the world crumbles a little more on him." She returned her gaze to the boy in a life and death struggle on the bed. Her eye held fear, awe, and a stubborn protectiveness all at once. "He loves us, Ron. More then any other thing, that was what I got." Ron turned a deep red at this, as it was slightly embarrassing, but he was very pleased. Harry was like his brother, and he was glad Harry felt the same way. Looking for something to comment on, he started laughing when he remembered something else. At her strange look, he explained.

"I was just thinking that even he's unconscious, he's still good at insulting Snape." She was suddenly struck by how silly and true that was, and joined him.

It was then that a new sound started coming from Harry. The moaning broke off, and he started breathing more heavily, seemingly trying to talk. Then he stopped, and they finally heard the first clear words from him in hours.

"Hello Tommy."

"DO NOT REFER TO ME AS SUCH! I am Lord Voldemort, master of eternal darkness! Treat me with the respect I deserve!" Harry could have sworn that his eyes were starting to spit flame. He gave a smirk and decided not to press the issue.

"Alright, _Voldemort._ Honestly, your such a baby about it." He looked back towards the creatures, who were watching the exchange with interest. "By the way, I thank you for showing up. I was about to explain something to these fellows, but visual aides make everything better, don't you think?" Harry could see that he was itching to attack him, but he seemed to be holding back. Eventually, a small, unpleasant smile formed on the evil wizard's lips.

"So, how does it feel to be all alone, eh Potter? Nothing but these rag tag creatures to support you. Not even your supposed friends try for your return. It must be a crushing let down. I never have that problem, of course. It's rather unfortunate that you took out Bella, she was one of my most loyal servants, but at least she managed to hit you before she went down. She will be revered in the history of my followers when I control the world." Harry tried his hardest not to bust out laughing, as he couldn't imagine a more ridiculous conversation taking place.

"So you see, my furry and feathery friends, that is what is known as a bluff. He is more hurt by the loss of these Death Eaters then he wants to let on, so he tries to make it sound as if he is winning, hoping that I'll fall for it and just give up." As he spoke, the look on Voldemort's face grew more and more enraged. When Harry finally turned his attention back to him, he looked ready to commit murder. "And by the way, who said I was alone? True, you have taken many a person from me, but there are still plenty of people that love me. Hermione Granger, for instance." When he said her name, a haze formed to his right and solidified into a shadow outline that had bushy hair and a smile on its face. Voldemort shrank back from it, closing his eyes as if in pain. "There's also Ronald Weasley." Another form took shape, and his enemy backed away even further. "And let's not forget Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Minerva McGonagall, Reubeus Hagrid, and of course your old friend Albus Dumbledore." With each name, a new mist shape formed, and Voldemort seemed to grow smaller. When he finally named the Headmaster, he seemed nothing more than the sixteen-year-old Harry had seen down in the Chamber of Secrets "So as you can see, I'm not alone, though it may seem like it at times. You, however, should reevaluate those you say worship you. Or have you forgotten that when you disappeared sixteen years ago most of them decided that you weren't even worth mourning?" He could see the anger and insanity building in the face of the "Dark Lord", so he wasn't to surprised when a spell came flying his way.

"_Mens Contusio_!"

"_Anima Exactio_!" The two lights collided with each other, and a familiar bond was formed. This time, however, the lights were all silver, and Harry had the feeling the reverse spell effect would be different. These concerns were secondary, however, as he was in a battle of wills with the beads of light, trying to force them back into the wand that was his owns brother. Movement to the sides caught his attention, and when he spared a glance he saw that the shapes he had called earlier were still active. They encircled the cage now, and their being there seemed to give him strength. He concentrated harder, and was rewarded when the beads started a steady slide towards his opponent. He could see the young face sweating with exertion, trying to overpower him, but it seemed he was unable to summon the necessary energy. When the beads contacted his wand, he gave a howl of despair and anger.

As Harry had suspected, there were no previous spells issuing from Voldemort's wand. Instead, images started to play in his mind. Harry witnessed the pain that Voldemort had felt when possessing Harry last year, the despair he had felt when he was without a body. The many years of the dark lord flashed before his eyes, and at the same time he felt an itch in his head. Eventually, the connection broke of its own accord, and they stood facing each other once more. Voldemort looked stunned, and Harry took this time to address the others.

"There you have it. You can go back to your private little war, if you really want to, but I think it would be much more productive if we concentrated on Tommy, here." He spoke no more after that, awaiting their decision. Finally, they started making their separate ways over to him. The phoenix landed on the opposite shoulder of the owl, and nuzzled him with its head. The werewolf and dog took up his two sides, and likewise started showing affection. He petted them all, and thanked them for their help. After a couple of minutes, they faded from sight and Voldemort looked like he was starting to come around.

"I do thank you for your timely arrival, Voldy, but I think it's time you left." He ignored the sputtering , and tried to think of a way to kick him out.

It was then that the still present itching in his mind intensified, and it felt like things were shifting around in his mind. Almost of its own will, his wand rose into the air and started drawing with shining gold lines. Runes appeared, something he had never studied and therefore couldn't know what they meant, but he somehow still did. Past, Present, Future, Remembrance, and Family formed, spreading out around him and building lines between themselves, forming a pentagram. Plucking a hair from his head, he burned it with his wand and drew a sideways figure eight in the smoke. Through his preparations, he saw Voldemort looking wide eyed in horror.

"What do you think you are doing! Don't you know how unpredictable that spell is!" Harry would have responded, but he couldn't break the spell form, so he simply raised his wand above his head and chanted.

_I call on those who came before_

_To banish this evil forever more_

_Seal my mind and guard my heart_

_And from this place let healing start_

Harry wasn't sure what to expect, but he knew it would be big. And he was right. The pentagram spun around him madly, until it exploded into an expanding pulse of golden light. Felling a presence behind him, he turned around...and was greeted by a sight that blew his mind.

His entire family stretched far out behind him. Immediately behind him, his mother and father smiled, giving a small wave. Behind them were couples he could only assume were his grandparents, and so on all the way back until they blurred out. This was such a shock that he noticed some small details. For instance, almost all of the men in his fathers line had the same black, wild hair. Harry could see some blonds in the far distance, but certainly within the past thirty generations there were none. Another interesting point was that while his fathers side almost all had wands, there were a small number of wand wielders in his mothers line as well. He had expected them to all be muggles. Shaking his head to clear it of the shock, he turned back to his opponent.

To say that Voldemort looked horrified would be understating the situation. He stared in fear at the vast number of wizards and muggles, trying not to collapse in abject terror. Harry let a smirk grace his lips.

"Like I said before, I'm not really alone. _Anima Exactio_!" He could feel power rushing towards him in waves from his ancestors, and the spell that left his wand was many times more powerful than the previous version. Voldemort tried to counter with a "_Mens Parma_!", but Harry spell smashed through the shield and struck him. He screamed in defeat and anger, then vanished, leaving behind only his echoes. He closed his eyes to block out those last screams, and when he opened them, the area had changed. Where before it had been dark and cold, he was now on a grassy hill, and there was a light breeze blowing. Looking around, he saw most of the summoned people fading, some with a wave, some with a blown kiss. Soon, only his parents and some man in the distance remained. His parents hugged him, and all thoughts of anything else disappeared. He held onto them tightly, reveling in this moment, trying to imprint it on is memory forever. He knew that he was crying, but he didn't care, as they were doing the same. He wasn't sure how long they stood like that, but when he finally let go and stepped back, he noticed that the man in the back had come a lot closer.

"So, my boy, it's nice to see that you took up where we left off. Beating up on old snake face, I mean." The voice of James Potter was filled with amusement and pride, and his mother jabbed him in the side.

"I'd rather he didn't have to, but it seems we aren't that lucky." She smiled at her son again, and he felt warmth fill him. He decided to change the subject, before he broke down in tears again.

"So, why did he think that spell was dangerous? I mean, that has to be the best thing ever." They lost their smiles and took on a more somber tone.

"Well, the spell is designed to call on your ancestors to aide you in your time of need." His mother's voice sounded just like a teachers, and he bit back a smile, so as not to annoy her. "His worry was the fact that his line goes back to Salazar Slytherin, and he felt he might not be worthy of the great snake tongue." Harry understood then, and shook his head.

"Because his father was a muggle? Geez, he really needs to learn to get over things. He's like an older Snape." They all laughed at this, though his mother looked as if she didn't really want to, but couldn't help herself. He looked behind them, and he noticed that the other had almost reached them. He had curly blond hair, and was rather tall and muscular. He moved, however, like a big cat, totally at home with himself. His eyes were trained on Harry, and he was startled to notice that they were a strange golden color. He realized his parents were speaking again and blushed, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" They exchanged sly miles over his blush, and repeated their speech.

"We are going to have to seal your magic for a little while." They suddenly had his full attention.

"Why?"

"Well, it's been stressed entirely too much recently. Between you fits of rage, the torture, creating that fire, and the _Mal Dumier_, you're running pretty low. Any more and you might just burn out." James laughed at the look of horror and dejection on his face.

"Don't worry, it's only for a short time. As soon as you recover, it'll be back and better than ever. Now, a hug and a kiss," he said, pausing to do both, "and back to reality you go." He felt himself start to fade, and struggled to remain for a few seconds more.

"Wait, will I see you again?" They smiled fondly, and nodded their heads.

"We'll be waiting for you in your dreams." As the blackness engulfed him, his mother blew him a kiss, mouthing I love you. Then there was nothing.

They watched with hopeful hearts as the spell faded from his body, and he seemed to sink back into the bed, resting peacefully at last. Ginny, who had come back from the bathroom looking incredibly sick, raced down the stairs to tell the adults. They were startled when they looked back to the bed and were met with bright green eyes and a mischievous smile.

"Hello. Miss me?" Anything else he might have said was drowned out by the laughing and hugging. Hermione was crying and Ron was grinning like a madman, but it was the same to Harry. It was just good to feel loved.


	5. One Last Ordeal

Harry knew that she was there. Even with his eyes closed, he could still feel it. It has to be her magic, that was the only explanation. He tried to ignore it and continue on with his meditation, but it pulsed in the back of his mind, steady as a heartbeat. Finally deciding that it would have to stay there, he turned his attention back to his memories.

It had been a strange couple of weeks at the Black Manor. It was wonderful to be back in the wizarding world, especially with those he felt closest to. But best of all were the dreams. Each night as he lay asleep, his parents visited in his dreams. He knew the others thought him acting a little strange to be wanting to get to sleep so early, but he shrugged it off, figuring he would tell them later. In the meantime, he was reveling in their nightly conversations, learning all of the things they had to tell him. Sometimes they talked of his past, sometimes theirs. Occasionally they talked about the future, and what it might hold, but that subject was mostly avoided.

They did breach the subject of Occlumency. While his mind was fully protected, he was glad to find out, it would still benefit him to spend some time each night sorting things out. If nothing else, it would help him control his emotions. So he spent each night trying to sort his memories, separating them by the emotion that was attached to them. It was a lot harder than he had figured. Almost all of the significant memories evoked many different feelings, making them hard to shuffle through. For example, the memory of telling Neville of the death of Bellatrix Lestrange was an especially difficult. It brought up guilt, horror, anger, sadness, and disturbingly enough, happiness. Neville had cried, whether from happiness at having his parent's attacker dead or bitterness that he couldn't do it himself, Harry didn't know. He was glad though, that it was he, not Neville that had exacted the revenge. He felt guilty for thinking that, but that was the exact way he felt. He was glad Neville didn't have that to carry around.

Eventually, he decided that he had done enough for the night, and opened his eyes. Sure enough, Hermione sat a little from the door, exactly where he had felt that pulse. Her gave her a smile, though it was a little strained after dealing with his emotions like that. She returned a more hesitant one, and then they sat there is silence. It was him that decided to break it.

"Do you know that Voldemort has a very strange mind?" He saw a look of confusion and fear pass over her face, and spoke quickly to modify what he said. "No, I haven't visited his mind recently, but I have been in it. When I was in that coma, we had a duel, and our wands connected again." He pulled a thinking look and rectified that. "Well, I guess it was the _idea_ of our wands, since we weren't there physically...well anyway, they connected and I won. Instead of his wand repeating spells, I got a look at the inside his mind." Her face was looking split between interest and concern, so he continued on. "In fact, I still have lots of those memories in here." He tapped the side of his head, and his face took on a more somber cast. "It's messed up, the way he thinks. He enjoys the Dark Spells, of course, but he likes corrupting the light spells even more. He took the summoning charm for example, combined it with the charm that heals the breaks in bones, twisted it a little, and _voila_, created a spell that tears the bones from a persons body. And I know how to do that." He looked at the horrified mask on her face and tried to lighten the mood. "Well, it's not all bad. I mean, I know the twisted versions, but now I know the original versions, too. And I bet if I really wanted to, I could Apperate."

"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful. You could use that knowledge to really get ahead." She sounded excited, but his stomach was sinking. He knew he had been trying for light, but that was taking it a bit far.

"Wonderful?" He chuckled sadly, and she immediately lost her smile. "I wouldn't say that. There are darker things in my head now, things I wouldn't wish on anyone. Did you know that you can keep the Cruciatus curse on someone for exactly seven minutes and forty-seven second before brain damage becomes permanently irreversible? How about the perfect way to Imperio a strong-minded individual to commit suicide? How about the feeling of killing people, the pervasive pleasure of knowing they won't ever breath again, and it was all your doing?" Harry was hugging his knees and rocking back and forth, trying to fight off these memories even as he spoke them. Hermione was shocked, and tried to crawl closer to him, but he stopped her with a headshake.

"Harry, none of those are your memories, they belong to the insane man trying to kill you." He looked at her again, and she saw the pain in his eyes.

"I killed her, Hermione. Her and four others. I tried to Crucio her in the Department of Mysteries, and when that didn't work I burned her alive. On some level, I knew they were begging for their lives, but I didn't care. I was _enjoying _it too much." There was horror and disgust in his voice, and more pain then she had ever heard. "Dumbledore was worried that Voldemort would take me over. He should have been worried about what was already there."

She knew that the Death Eaters had died, and that it had most likely been his doing, but they hadn't discussed it. She finally got close to him, and touched his shoulder, trying to offer some sort of support. He fell into the fetal position on the floor, crying and whispering, "Why? Why?" She didn't have an answer for him, so she did what she could. Scooting closer, she stroked his hair, trying to think of something to convince him he wasn't a bad person, but nothing came to mind that wouldn't sound contrived. The best she could do was shush him, hoping the sound was soothing. She felt a deep protective feeling for him, and an immense anger at the people who tortured him so. She didn't know how long they sat like that, but eventually his whimpering and rocking ceased. When he sat up, he avoided looking at her face, and she thought that he might be embarrassed.

"I'm sorry about that." His words were soft, but she could tell that he felt a little better. Unfortunately, that was when they were interrupted.

"Well, Potter, if you're going to be like that, you could do the service of putting a sign on the door." Harry sighed as he felt the rage rise in him once again, and tried to counter it with his happy memories. He had the feeling that no matter how much he controlled his emotions, Snape would still dive him crazy. "I've come at the behest of the Headmaster, to set up a schedule for Occlumency lessons. I have graciously agreed to take you back, but if I find you snooping again, it's immediate expulsion." His face took on a gleeful expression, as it always did when he was thinking about punishing Harry. Harry couldn't keep a smile from his face as he responded.

"Well, _Professor_, I am extremely pleased to inform you that Occlumency lessons will no longer be necessary. I do thank you for your kind consideration, however." He watched with interest as Snape's face slipped toward a color that would make his Uncle proud.

"Always the arrogant one, just like your father! We'll see about that! _Legimens_!" Harry felt the force of Snape's mind attempt to invade, but stop short at the barrier. He shook his head and spoke in a calm voice.

"I wouldn't go any further if I were you. You won't like what you find." The increasing pressure on his mind showed that he wasn't going to listen, so Harry waited for the inevitable conclusion. In less then a minute, he felt a crack like a whip, and the force was gone. Snape curled up on the floor, clutching his arm and screaming in pain. Another person came running into the room: Remus.

"What happened? Severus, what happened?" He looked from the slightly horrified face of Hermione to Harry's calm countenance.

"Well, he tried to invade my mind, and I even told him to stop, but he decided not to listen. Now he's suffering the consequences." Remus' mouth dropped open, and he looked ready to ask another question when he was interrupted by Snape.

"What is this pain!" He sounded on the edge of shrieking, and a small, pained smile came to Harry's lips.

"If I'm not mistaken, that is the feeling of a Basilisk bite and the ensuing death from its venom." This time Snape really did shriek, and Remus looked very concerned. "Oh, don't worry, you'll be fine. The effect should be wearing off about now." True to his word, the Professor stopped struggling, and rose to his feet.

"You'll pay for doing that, _Potter_!" Harry blinked his eyes, not really surprised.

"So you're going to punish me for not falling to your attack of my mind? I'd like to see that report." Snape scowled, so he decided to explain. "That is what makes your lessons unnecessary. Anytime someone tries to invade my mind, they will partake of one of my many painful experiences. Maybe you want to try again? I'm sure the shattering of a forearm is nothing to the mighty Death Eater. Or maybe one of my famous Voldemort-caused headaches will suit you. How about the _Avada Kedavra_?" At the mention of each one, Snape's face grew paler, an astonishing feat. He finally gathered his composure and decided to take a different tact.

"The Dark Lord will not be beaten so easily." Harry bit back the temptation to laugh in his face.

"Well, Tommy and I have sorted our differences. He won't try to invade my mind, I'm pretty sure of that." He saw the shock on his face, and decided to add onto it. "I have a message for you. Actually, it's a couple of messages." There was a small pause, and then Snape shuddered.

"You carry a message from the Dark Lord? Has he uncovered my betrayal?"

"You really shouldn't jump to conclusions. No, this message is from my parents. 'Mr. Prongs extends his deepest apologies to the _esteemed_ potions master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Certain occurrences during a certain Fifth Year grew out of control, so I'm sorry, even though considering what you did in your free time, you deserved it you great greasy git.' That was the gist of what dad said, though I think I mellowed it out a little." The teachers face was switching back and forth between outrage and confusion, while Remus and Hermione were looking concerned for his sanity. Snape made to speak, but Harry cut him off. "Don't you want to hear what Mom said? 'The Enchantress agrees with Mr. Prongs, and is immensely proud of his willingness to realize his mistakes. Though I wanted to believe that you were a victim of this prankster, it has come to my attention that you were far from innocent. Therefore, all defenses launched on your behalf are hear-by retroactively withdrawn. I had hoped you would outgrow petty vindictiveness, but I was sadly mistaken. When the moon is high, and the wolf howls again, four friends shall ride one more time.' Oops, that last part was for you, Moony. I hope you don't mind if I call you that. They gave me permission, but it's really up to you." He looked expectantly at Remus, who gave his head a shake and tried to frame a reply.

"It-it's fine." Harry smiled at him, then stretched and yawned. Well, I'm off to bed. It was nice to see you, Moony. Good night." He walked out of the room, leaving a stunned Potions Master and former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher behind. Hermione quietly followed him, trying to make sense of what she had just heard, and trying her best not to look worried. If Harry thought he was talking to his parents, things were much more complicated then she had feared. She would need to write the Headmaster right away.

Harry sat on the ground under a blowing Holly tree, trying to soak up the last remnants of his parents before he sunk back into a regular dream. Now that he had recovered, they told him, they would be returning to the other side, for good this time. They loved him, and were proud of him, and they knew he would succeed. With one final hug, they had gone, not to be seen again until he crossed over. He stood up, ready to head into his dreams, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, expecting to see that his parents had decided to come back.

Instead, the blond man that seemed to always be around in his dreams was there. Harry was surprised, as he had never actually contacted them before.

"So, are you gonna talk this time?" The man smiled at him, and held out his hand to shake.

"Indeed I am, Harry. It's nice to finally meet you. I've waited until now because I didn't want to interrupt your time with your parents." Harry nodded at this, glad that the man was so considerate. He took on a more serious expression, however, as he continued. "As you've no doubt figured, I'm an ancestor of yours, from quite a ways back. I've come to offer you a challenge." Harry's blood started racing at the thought of his offer. He had found that challenges such as this made his day, which is probably why he liked Quidditch so much. The man chuckled. "I see that you are interested. Very well, the challenge is this: You may use no magic until such time as I contact you and tell you otherwise. No spells at all, even against that Draco Malfoy character. Do you think you can handle that?" He smiled at the look on Harry's face. No magic? That would drive him crazy! Plus...

"How am I to participate in class if I don't do the spell work? The teachers aren't going to like it if I just stop working." The man shook his head.

"I'm afraid that that is your concern. You may handle it anyway that you want, so long as you don't tell them about me." Harry thought it over some more, looking into the eyes of this man from whom he descended. The gold in them seemed to intensify, until he felt he was staring into pools of molten metal. Finally, he made his decision.

"Deal."


	6. A Party and A Visit

Harry leaned against Buckbeak's side, trying to read a book Moony had given him, and failing miserably. The bustle downstairs was playing with his emotions too much. They had promptly banished him to the higher reaches of the house, stating that it was improper fro him to see the preparations for his birthday party. Since he had no experience at that, he decided to follow their order and head up.

The Hippogriff rubbed his beak along Harry's arm and made a contented noise in his throat. He stroked the feathers along the crest of his head, glad that he was feeling better after the betrayal of that foul beast, Kreacher. Harry had visited him soon after he had awoken, and had discovered that his wing had been sliced, as an attempt to lure Sirius away from contact. While Kreacher had been dealt with, Buckbeak remained injured, so he was under the car of Molly Weasley for now. As it turned out, however, he seemed to remember Harry well, and even seemed to like him, so Harry had volunteered to work with him. Molly was glad to give him up, and Harry read up on injured Hippogriffs, just to make sure he wouldn't cause more damage.

A tapping on the window brought him out of his thoughts, and he turned his head to see Hedwig sitting on the sill. Quickly letting her in, he untied the letter from her leg, petting her all the while. It had only been two days since she had seen her, but he always felt better when she was around. He unfolded the letter and read, discovering that it was from Mark.

_Harry,_

_The representative from the school is coming tomorrow to take me to the place where I can get all of my stuff, including a wand! I'm so excited. Is there anyway you can meet me there? The rep is nice, I guess, but she's awfully stiff, and I don't feel comfortable asking her things about the school. Write me back if you can._

_Mark_

Harry lowered the letter with a grin. Surely Professor McGonagall was going to be at the party. He would ask then, and try to arrange the security issues with the Aurors. Surely they wouldn't deprive the first year of some familiar comfort?

Feeling his stomach growl he looked out of the window and noticed that the sun had sunk considerably lower. He hoped that they weren't too much longer.

Almost as if on cue, the door opened and his three year mates came in. Bowing carefully to Buckbeak, who nodded his head in response, they pulled Harry to his feet and tied a blindfold around his eyes, making comments about really giving him a shock. They lead him down the stairs, carefully leading him around obstacles in his way. When they stopped, he tried to ask a question, but they shushed him. Then, without warning, he was pushed through a door and the blindfold ripped off.

"**_Surprise!_**"1 Harry barely stopped himself drawing his wand as he recognized the numerous people in attendance. All of the Weasleys, except for Percy, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and even Madame Bones and Susan were here! There were unfamiliar faces too, of course, though they were far out numbered. He noticed that Professor Snape was missing as well, and decided that this wasn't a bad thing. Then he was swept of to the table with a huge cake on it, and seated rather firmly by Mrs. Weasley. Neville was seated right beside him, and seemed shocked that his name was on the cake as well. It appeared that the adults had changed some things around while he was gone. When he asked Neville about it later, he learned that his actual birthday was the day before, and he had opened his presents from Gram with a minimum of fuss.

The next hour was one of the best he had ever had, and he was sure Neville liked it as well. There was music, cake, laughter, an interesting rendition of the birthday song by Mundungus, who seemed to have started the festivities a little too early with brandy, and a comic act by the twins. He should have known it wouldn't last all that long.

There was the briefest of tingles on his neck before he started to open his presents, and he put the one he was holding down. The others looked at him strangely, no doubt wondering about the change in his attitude, when something inside of him made him speak.

"Well, if it isn't the bestest little Death Eater in the whole wide world. What brings you?" There was a gasp from around the table as Severus Snape stepped from the shadows he was concealed in.

"It certainly wasn't to see you worshipped, _Potter_. The sight of abject adoration sickens me, especially when directed at a glory seeking little idiot like yourself." Harry felt his face twitch, but he managed to keep a hold on his emotions. If the reading of Sirius's will didn't make him crack, Snivellus sure wouldn't.

"You know, I don't think _I _invited you to _my_ birthday party which is in _my_ house. If you must be here, spew your bile into a corner and let the _real_ guests enjoy themselves." With that he dismissed the moron completely to open his presents.

Which were great! Hermione and Moony had given him a compendium entitled _Great Duels of the Past Century, and How I Could Improve On Them_ by Bellius the Baleful. Harry could tell it was really rare, and thanked them. Remus quietly noted that the book had been her idea, and he had just contributed money to the cause. Ron got him a chocolate frog collection, asking him to share any rare cards he might get. Ginny got him a little pendent of a wolf, stag, and dog pouncing on a rat, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Deciding to do neither, he put it on, hoping that he could act as the conduit for it to come true.

What really stuck out in his mind, though, was the gift from the twins. It was a small box with a card in it. After Harry had read the card, they took the smile on his face as a sign that it was good news. They were surprised, however, when the card burst into flames. Harry was quick to put it down, but not before Moody noticed that he didn't really look singed or in pain.

On his part, Harry was shocked by the gesture they had extended to him. He remembered clearly what was written.

_Harry-wary,_

_As the backer for our glorious ambitions, and the only one who really believed in us, we have decided to give to you one of our deepest secrets. If you should victim to any one of our wonderous items, simply say or think strongly **fun and games **and the effects will end. Please refrain from sharing this information, as it could put us out of business._

_Yours in Prankster Brotherhood,_

_Frederick and Georgius_

_ WWW Inc._

He winked at the two red headed men across the table and they grinned at him. This would come in very handy, he knew.

The rest of the party after the arrival of Snape went great. He even managed to get Professor McGonagall to one side and convinced her that letting him go along to Diagon Ally was in the best interest of Mark. All in all, he felt that the night would make a great Patronus, even if he couldn't exactly cast one in the foreseeable future.

Harry was just finishing up some more ice cream when four owls swooped through the window. There was a pause in activity as everyone held their breath, expecting bad news. Harry, however, had a feeling that he knew what this was about as one dropped a small packet in front of himself, Ron, Hermione, and Neville. Taking a deep breath, he picked his up and read it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the others do the same.

Sure enough, it was his O.W.L. results, and he scanned them with some trepidation.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Here are the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Levels. May your scores enable you to continue with the career path of your choice._

_Sincerely,_

_Delerius Delory, Department of Magical Education_

_The listed grade is an average taken from the theory and practical portions of your exam._

_Charms - Outstanding_

_Transfiguration - Exceeds Expectations_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts - Outstanding XX_

_Potions - Outstanding_

_Divination - Poor_

_Astronomy - Acceptable_

_History of Magic - Poor_

_XX - Mr. Potter, not only did you manage full credit on both parts of the exam, but extra credit was awarded on both parts as well. Congratulations!_

_O.W.L.'s in total - 10.5_

Harry looked up in amazement from his letter. If he was figuring his total right, he had been awarded _4 _points for his DADA O.W.L. His thoughts were interrupted by Hermione's shout.

"!5! Alright!" She started jumping up and down, and Harry was once again surprised at the joy schoolwork inspired in her. He looked expectantly at Ron, who nodded and rolled his eyes before telling his results.

"Well, I got 7.5. Which is a lot better then Fred and George", he said, dodging the hands that tried to smack him. He ginned at his mother, who had tears in her eyes, and Harry looked towards Neville, who was eyeing his Grandmother with trepidation.

"Well, I got 9, which is really good, don't you think?" He sighed with relief when his Grandmother nodded her approval and granted him a small smile. "Besides, Outstanding in Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts, not to mention Exceeds Expectations in Potions! This is great!" Ron, Hermione, and Harry all chimed in.

"We got O's in DADA too." They all eyed each other before grinning wildly and busting out into laughter. Dumbledore, who both felt very proud of them, and had some idea of why they were laughing, simply smiled on them without comment. The others were not so well informed. They were about to ask some questions when a tawny owl flew in, dropping a letter in front of Harry before swooping out again. Picking it up, he noticed the name Bones. They had left just half an hour ago, pleading business. Opening it up, he quickly read the short note, a smile growing on his face,

"It's from Susan. She got an O too! I knew she could do it!" There was a general acclimation from Ron, Neville, Hermione, and Ginny, who was laughing with the rest of them. Mrs. Weasley looked confused at the conversation and started speaking.

"Dears, what-" She was interrupted, however, by the small deluge of owls that commenced delivering their letters to Harry. He sorted through the names. Seamus, Dean, and many, many others that Harry recognized. It looked like the entire fifth and seventh year population of the D.A. had mailed him. Gesturing for his friends to help him, he check the contents of the letters. After conferring when they were done, it was established that all of the students that had been tested had gotten at least Exceeds Expectations, and they were in the minority. Most had gotten O's, and they all thanked Harry profusely. Harry glowed with pride in them. He had known they were all good, and he hoped that their skills would help them survive the coming fights. He looked up to notice the looks of surprise, and quickly tried to think of something to say. She beat him to it.

"Well, if what you were talking about is true, then Umbridge must not have been as bad a teacher as we thought." Mrs. Weasley's pronouncement was met with hisses and boos. She looked shocked until Hermione took it on herself to explain.

"Seriously, as if that woman could teach us anything. Why, if not for-" She broke off when she saw Harry shaking his head violently and blushing. "For the independent studies we engaged in, I have reason to believe we all might have failed miserably." The adults that weren't in the loop (everyone besides Moony, Professor McGonagall, and the Headmaster), looked unconvinced, but they let the matter drop.

There was another consideration, however. Professor McGonagall took this as an opportunity to give them their school letters, and they had to decide on classes. She had highlighted the classes required to be an auror on his, as well as recommending a few she thought might be helpful. He decided on Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense, the required courses. Also, Basic Healing, Care of Magical Creatures, and Magical Combat Theory and Practice, although he needed two recommendations to get into the last one. He when he asked her about them, she handed him two, one from herself and one from the Headmaster. He guessed that they had anticipated his request.

The party pretty much wound down after that, and they headed off to bed. Comparing notes with the others about their classes, he was happy to see that they had a good number of classes in common. He shared the basic classes with them both, and he was happy to note that they had both decided to continue taking Defense.

He turned in early, knowing that the guard would be by in the morning to escort him to first the Evans's and then Diagon Alley.

Harry straightened his tie once more, looking nervously into the street. When he had been told to dress nicely by Professor McGonagall, he had almost regretted asking to come along. Compounded with the fact that they were dangerously close to Privet Drive, the dress shirt and slacks were decidedly uncomfortable. It was interesting to note that she pulled off muggle dress in a very convincing way. No doubt all of her experience made her at ease. He was about to comment on the weather just to break the silence when he saw something that made his heart start beating faster.

Dudley and his gang were headed this way, and Harry knew there was no avoiding it. True enough, they soon spotted him.

"Hey Potter, going to a funeral?" Dudley was quiet, not wanting a repeat of the last time, though his friends had obviously been obliviated. Catching his eye, Harry smirked.

"Fellows, I wanted to introduce Professor McGonagall. She one of the teachers at _my school_." Dudley's eyes started bulging at his words, just as he had hoped. He quickly started trying to convince his friends that more fun was to be had in an entirely different neighborhood. He could tell that the others were wary of his teacher. Even if you didn't know that she was a powerful witch, she looked intimidating, especially if she was frowning. They all decided to leave the area as soon as they could. When they were out of sight, she turned a questioning eyebrow to Harry. He shrugged.

"The fat, quiet one was my cousin, Dudley Dursley. The rest was his gang, and I guessed they missed me a lot." Her other eyebrow rose at this comment.

"You were friends with them?" Her obvious disbelief was slightly amusing. He started walking again, even though he didn't really know where they were going.

"Well, a better way to put it would be that I was their prey. Their favorite game used to be something called 'Harry Hunting'." He looked back to see back to see shock on her face, and she still hadn't moved "Don't worry, I've gotten over it. Don't we have to hurry?" His words got her moving again, although he heard her murmuring about talking to Dumbledore.

They soon arrived at his house, one Harry hadn't seen before. Ringing the doorbell, they waited politely until it was answered. A tall woman opened it, and greeted the Professor cordially.

"Good evening, Ms. McGonagall." Harry gave a start at hearing her referred to in this way, but none the less made his way inside when she wave and stepped aside. On the couch, sitting next to Mark, was a man who could only be his father. He was smiling, though it seemed to fade a little bit when they appeared.

"Ah, Professor, it's nice to see you again." His voice was warm and inviting, though when he addressed Harry, there was a cold edge to it. "And you are the 'friend' that we've been hearing so much about, except for a name, of course." He did not offer a hand to shake as he had with McGonagall. "You can surely be none other than Harry Potter, however. Which leads me to ask the question: Exactly what are you doing here?" Mark had his head in his hands, and McGonagall looked as though she were torn between outrage and surprise. Harry, on the other hand, was berating himself for not expecting this. He shook his head and addressed Mr. Evans in a calm voice.

"Yes, I am Harry Potter, no I do not attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Criminally Insane Boys, and yes my cousin Dudley is a jerk and a bully. Surely you don't believe the rumors the Dursley's have been spreading around for all these years. If I was that bad, don't you think I'd be locked up permanently?" He could tell he was shaken by his calm tone of voice and the very accurate list of all the rumors. That's when the Professor decided to enter the conversation.

"Mr. Potter is one of my finest students. As for what he is doing here, he felt, and I agreed, that having another wizard closer to his age then myself would make the experience less disorienting for Mark." Mark turned red at the last remark, knowing that it was his letter that had prompted Harry's visit. His father, however, turned much calmer and friendlier after she had intervened, as treated Harry as well as could be expected. He seemed interested in the wizarding world, and was as eager as his son for all the experiences. Harry had the feeling he wouldn't like the first one

A half hour later, he tried to keep from smirking at the nauseated look on his face. A ride on the Knight Bus was hectic at any time, and it had seemed especially so this time around. Mark, of course, had enjoyed it, while the Professor showed no reaction. Harry waited until the green had faded, then approached him.

"Mr. Evans, if you come into the Leaky Cauldron, I'm sure Tom can find something to fix you up." He looked up from his crouched position, looking at him.

"Where?"

"The entrance is right here" he said, pointing to the sign. He saw the confused look in the man's eyes and sighed. He had forgotten that muggles couldn't see the doorway. He looked to McGonagall for support, and she told him what to do.

"You have to be touching him when we get to the door, otherwise he won't be able to pass through. Harry took his arm and led him through the door. Mr. Evans gave a start when a barroom seemed to materialize, and his sickness was quite forgotten. He greeted Tom, who called out a greeting to Harry, though he didn't use his name. After making sure that Mark and his father were ready to continue, McGonagall led them to the back alley. She gave Harry a hat, one that matched his clothes, and proceeded to tap the appropriate brick. As the bricks formed into the standard archway, she addressed Mark exclusively. "Mr. Evans, welcome to Diagon Alley, center of the wizarding world." His mouth dropped open at the sights before him, and his father wasn't far behind him. Harry, on the other hand, was soaking in the sights like they were lost friends. He had spent many days here before his third year, and hadn't been back since. It was nice to return.

Before Mark or his father could run off and be lost, McGonagall suggested they head to the bank to exchange their money. Harry realized that he need to make a withdrawal as well. The number of books he needed would not be cheap.

The snowy white marble building rose in the distance as they approached it. When they went up the stairs, Mr. Evans had to be convinced to keep moving, as he just wanted to stare at the goblins. McGonagall led them to the exchange counter, while Harry went to find a goblin to take him down to his vault. Hearing the swish of some fabric in the air behind him, he hid his smile.

At the desk, he pulled out his key and convinced a goblin to take him. When he got in the cart, he made sure to hold the goblin until he felt another bounce as his shadow entered it. The ride was as thrilling as ever, and when he got to the vault, he decided to take an inventory of what was there. Though he had been using it for about six years, the piles of gold, silver, and copper didn't seem to have shrunk any. Shaking his head, he gathered as much as he could in the two pouches he had brought with him, and asked to be taken back up.

The others were done with their exchange, so he followed them out to the street. McGonagall wisely decided to direct them to Ollivander's, before they exploded with joy. When the bell tinkered, the old man sitting at the counter looked up and smiled.

"Minerva, what a pleasure to see you again. New student?" She nodded in the affirmative, but his gaze was distracted from her as Harry entered the shop. "Mr. Potter. What an honor it is to see you again." Harry bowed to him, and remembered something he had wanted to ask.

"Mr. Ollivander, when we are done getting Mark his wand, I want to talk to you about something." He looked curious, but turned to Mark none the less. Taking his measurements with the animated measuring tape, he puttered around the back, collecting some boxes and dismissing others. Meanwhile, Mark was looking nervous.

"Why's it doing that?" He asked when the tape measured the width of his nose. Harry laughed.

"I think it's checking your magic and your personality. You see, a wand is just a stick of wood with a core from some magical source. By itself, it can't make magic. However, when it's combined with the magic energy in a wizard or witch, spells happen. Because this is the very basis of magic, you need to make sure the wand suits you as well as possible. If you are the peaceful type, for example, and the wand is really good at destructive spells, your magic isn't able to flow correctly, and the spell loses most of its power." He was shocked when a voice came from right next to him.

"That's a very good explanation. Do you think I could use it?" He hadn't noticed Mr. Ollivander was back, with a stack of boxes. When Harry nodded, he turned back to Mark. "Well Mr. Evans let us see what suits you most."

Twelve boxes later, Mark had a thirteen-inch maple wand, with the heartstring of a dragon in the middle. "Good for strengthening and endurance spells" was what Ollivander had to say on the matter. Harry waited until the others were outside before he asked his question.

"Has Neville Longbottom been in to get a replacement wand yet?" The old man's eyebrows rose.

"No he has not. I was under the impression that he was using his fathers wand." Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, when he helped me at the Ministry a couple of months ago, it got broken. I expect he'll be in here at some point." Ollivander nodded at this, and made to head off to the back room. Harry called after him. "Wait, please." When he had his attention again, he made his request. "When he does come in, don't charge him. Take the money from my account instead." Under his questioning look, Harry blushed a deep red. "It's sort of my fault that his wand was broken." He nodded his understanding, and they shook on it.

It was an uneventful day in Diagon alley, thank goodness. The most interesting part was trying to carry all of the books that he needed. All of the classes required at least two books, and both Magical Combat and Basic Healing needed three. It was fun, though, explaining to Mark about the various things muggle raised people need to know about not only Hogwarts but the entire wizarding world. He was stunned to learn that they actually flew around on broomsticks, and spent some time at the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

What tempted Mark the most, however, was Eyelops. He spent long minutes there, looking at all of the owls fluttering in their cages. He asked his father about it, and the man regretfully informed him that they were close to the end of their money, and he still needed robes. Mark walked away from the window sighing, and Harry slipped in to make some arrangements of his own. After all, without what Hagrid had done for him, he didn't know where he would be.

As they left Mark at his house, Harry wondered at the future of this boy. He honestly liked Mark, liked how even the threat of beatings from Dudley didn't stop him from trying to save his friends from the bully's wrath. How he had accepted Harry as a good person with barely any proof, just his word. He only hoped the boys luck was much better than his own.


	7. Home Again, Home Again

Disclaimer: This is not mine. JKR holds all rights. Praise her!

Harry glanced over at Ron, who was playing chess by himself as Ginny and Mrs. Weasley tried to get ready for the Hogwarts Express. He sat by the steps, trying his best not to think about the days ahead. Things were going to be hard to stand for a while. His train of thought was interrupted by Ron's call.

"Harry, come here!" He sounded scared, and Harry rushed to see what he wanted. He hadn't gotten more than a couple of feet when another shout was heard.

"Watch out!" There was a loud crashing noise, and he spun around. He shivered when he saw the heavy trunk sitting at the foot of the stairs. Had he been there, he would have been seriously hurt. Ginny came racing down the stairs, horrified. "Are you okay? I was trying to control it, but it slipped! I'm so sorry!" Harry tried to calm her down, but she was inconsolable. It wasn't until Mrs. Weasley came down the steps that she stopped babbling. Harry head over towards Ron, who was looking a little red as he stared at the board.

"So Ron, what did you need?" He turned an even deeper red, and Harry had the feeling that the call was solely for his benefit. He decided not to press the matter, and went up to see Buckbeak one last time. The Hippogriff seemed very upset that he was leaving, and Harry hoped to comfort him a little.

Harry slipped through the barrier to Platform 9 3/4, smiling when the sounds assaulted him. Owls called to each other, students shouted to their friends, and the train steamed in silence. Harry slowly made his way forward, flanked by the guards that Dumbledore had chosen. Moody's magical eye twirled while Moony walked calmly forward. His calm was only on the outside, however, as Harry could feel the tension in his body, the coil waiting to spring on any danger.

"Harry, Harry!" He caught Moody's arm before he could finish drawing his wand and shook his head. The ex-auror looked a little startled, but he covered the expression with a scowl.

"It's only Mark, you can relax." He turned to the first year, smiling as he recalled the excitement of stepping onto the platform for the first time. His parents followed at a more sedate pace. "Hey man, how are you doing?" He started babbling excitedly about all of the things he was planning to learn and do , and Harry tried to suppress his smirk. Eventually, the conductor called for everyone to finish boarding. Mark turned to his parents, his smile fading a little. It was obvious that he was going to miss them, something Harry wasn't too familiar with. However, he had anticipated this and was prepared. "Say Mark, I have a little something to show you." He gave a sharp whistle, something he had perfected over the summer. There was a response from the many owls on the train, but he waited for one specific hoot. After a second he heard it. From the sky Hedwig came spiraling down, landing softly on Mark's shoulder. He smiled at her, seeing as how they had become friends over the summer. When he reached out to stroke her, however, she fluttered onto Harry's waiting arm. He didn't have time to pout before another cry came.

A second snowy owl came barreling down, this one performing some somersaults before landing with a thump on the boys shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes at the stunts, but smiled nonetheless.

"Mark, this is Hotshot. Hotshot, this is Mark. I hope you two can get along, because you'll be seeing a lot of each other." He reached onto the cart and handed Mark a cage before he headed towards the train. Mark stood behind him, speechless and Hermione smiled.

They sat in the compartment, all involved in their own pursuits. Luna read a new issue of the Quibbler, Neville and Ginny were playing Exploding Snap, and Harry was meditating. Crookshanks sat in his lap, and he was absentmindedly petting her as he concentrated on sorting through his memories. Hedwig hooted softly from the luggage rack above, sitting on the rail since he had not put her back in her cage as of yet. Ron and Hermione had not made it back from the prefect's meeting yet. The door slid open and Harry opened his eyes, hoping not to see what he thought he would.

"So, Potty, where is your fan club?" The sneering tone of Draco Malfoy made his anger stir, but he clamped down on it hard. He didn't notice the tension going through everyone in the room, the animals included.

'They're still at the Prefects meeting, Malfoy. Shouldn't you be there as well?" He spoke as calmly as possible, not letting the nasty smile creep onto his face. Professor McGonagall had told him that he had been suspended as Prefect for abuse of power during the reign of Umbridge. Malfoy turned a shade of red Harry hadn't seen in weeks, and pointed his finger.

"You should watch your step, Potter. You never know when the Dark Lord or his followers will show up to take you out." He sneered, and Harry faked a yawn while trying to control his anger.

"I remember your aunt making a similar threat. Last time I saw her, she as a smudge on the ground." There was a wand in his face, but he knew it was coming, so he didn't flinch. Ginny, however, soon had her own wand trained on the young Death Eater. Malfoy's sneer increased.

"Stick to what your best at, blood traitor. Being on your knees." Harry's temper rose many notches, almost escaping his control. The look on Ginny's face was priceless, as it seemed she was have trouble not cursing him. "As a matter of fact, why don't you meet me later, and bring the Mudblood..." That was as far as he got before his wand shattered. He stared in shock at the splinters that lay on the floor before he turned to grab the wand from Goyle. Harry felt it coming and prepared to dodge.

"_Stupefy_!" The jet of red light slammed into the window, shattering it as Harry dove forward. There was a screech and a hiss, and a scream. When he spared a glance for Malfoy, he saw him under attack. Hedwig was scratching at his face and Crookshanks demolishing his legs as he tried to prevent the attacks. Harry stared in shock, but tried to regain control.

"Here, girl, Crookshanks, I'm sure he's really sorry. Leave him be." At his words, they stopped their assault and came over to him, the owl landing on his shoulder to thread her beak through his hair. Malfoy was looking bad off. Peck marks marred his pale face in many places, and there were bleeding scratches all down his legs. He was still able to see, though, and looked ready to curse again be fore a scarred hand landed on his shoulder.

"What are you on about, Malfoy?" The gravely tones of Mad-eye Moody stopped him where he stood. Glancing over his shoulder in fear, he quickly scurried to another compartment., even as the clunking of a wooden leg grew closer. Harry sighed to himself. He couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Harry looked at the nervous first years with some fondness. He remembered the time he had stood there, hoping against hope that he would pass the test he didn't know the contents of. He watched as Professor McGonagall brought out the Sorting Hat and it began it's song. He was distracted, however, Ron's nudge. He looked to the staff table where he pointed, and started studying the teachers there.

The Headmaster looked older than he remembered, and Harry felt a twinge, but ignored it. There were some issues he needed to work through with this old man before they could go back to their working relationship. He turned his attention to the new teacher sitting at the staff table. This could be none other than the new DADA teacher.

It was another woman, but thankfully she looked nothing like Umbridge. She was taller, for one, nor did she have any of the squat, toad-like qualities. She was, in fact, quite pretty, but Harry was less concerned about her looks than what she decided to teach. There was a thunderous applause, and he realized that the Hat was finished. When Professor McGonagall started calling the names of the first years, he paid close attention, because Mark was close to the beginning of the line. There were two additions to Gryffindor, one to Ravenclaw, and one to Slytherin before he was called.

"Evans, Mark." He stepped forward nervously, seeking Harry's face in the crowd. Harry gave him a thumbs up, and her continued onto the stool. When the Hat slid down around his head, Harry held his breath. He had a feeling he wouldn't be in Gryffindor, though he certainly had courage. No, there was another house for him. And he was soon proven right.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" He saw Mark ginning wildly before joining the others at his house table. He smiled to himself, knowing that Mark's loyalty would carry him far.

Throughout the rest of the sorting, he tried to make plans for this year. It was obvious that the teachers would take offense to the fact that he refused to do magic. In all likelihood, there would be punishments involved. He would also need to wait before he restarted the D.A. There were so many that needed help with defending themselves, if last year was any indication. He regretfully came to the conclusion that Quidditch would have to be sacrificed. He clapped absentmindedly with the others when the sorting finished, then dug into his food ravenously. He just hoped his loses were worth the cause.

Two weeks later, Harry was almost sure that he wouldn't survive much longer. He had already been given a weeks total detention from Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Joran. He was just glad he didn't have to deal with Snape's class. The git was sure to have tried to get him expelled by now. That had actually been a bright spot in the last two weeks. He remembered both Hermione and Ron asking why he had dropped potions on the first day of classes.

"Harry, you need this class to be accepted into the Auror training program. Just because you dislike the teacher doesn't mean you should let him ruin your future." He had simply smiled mysteriously and changed the subject. Thankfully, the question had finally been answered this morning with the deliver of the Daily Prophet.

_Amelia Bones Announces Change To Auror Program_

_In a surprise announcement yesterday, Madame Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, stated her intent to push through a change to the Auror training requirement._

_"It has come to our attention that certain requirements are outdated, and should be rethought. Upon interviewing with Alastor Moody, one of the most experienced Aurors around, the council came to a conclusion._

It was funny watching both Hermione's and Ron's faces when they realized a NEWT in Potions was no longer a necessity. It had been dropped to an OWL, and a NEWT in some higher level Magical Combat area was added, to reflect the more turbulent times. It was Hermione that figured out his schedule was perfectly balanced for Auror training.

"How did you know, Harry? Surely it wasn't an accident." He had smiled at her.

"Well, Madame Bones just 'happened' to let something slip at my party. It seems they were having trouble getting Auror cadets, because the closest Potions Master was Snape, and not many can actually learn from him. Not only that, but when she interviewed the Aurors, past and present, she discovered that they rarely, if ever, use Potions." It had been fun to see Snape's face when he read the article. Harry had been very careful not to let any laughter escape, but it was a very close thing. He allowed himself that laugh now, as he head across the grounds to see Hagrid.

He had grown closer to the half-giant in the last two weeks, and had come to enjoy their daily talks. He had been somewhat surprised to discover that Hagrid held in his head a vast knowledge not only of all magical creatures, but also mundane ones. Though he enjoyed talking about the "interesting" ones most, creatures such as fairies and elves were also covered. He was thinking about the talk ahead when the sounds of what sounded like a dual stopped him.

"_Intendere_!" He gave pause when he heard this spell uttered. It was used to magnify the effects of certain spells, and was rarely used for good reasons. The worst part was the fact that it lasted for a whole half-hour. "You're a disgrace to your house, Jason Ristanov. Buttering up the Oaf, of all teachers." Harry immediately recognized Malfoy's drawl, and decided whomever he was addressing was in trouble.

Using what cover he could find, he crept closer until he was in sight of them. What he saw was unpromising. The younger Slytherin was being held up by Malfoy's thugs, and Draco was berating him.

"He's really cool, and I don't see how it's any of your business." Harry winced as this was the perfectly wrong thing to say to Malfoy. Knowing that this would soon get out of hand, he pulled his invisibility cloak out of his pocket and started picking up stones from the ground. When he straightened, he was surprised to see Hedwig sitting on a branch of the tree he was hiding behind.

"Hey girl, you have perfect timing. Listen, I need you to do something for me." He laid out his plan, feeling slightly foolish. He knew Hedwig was far more intelligent then other delivery owls, but he was asking a lot. His doubts disappeared when she fluttered down and carefully took the cloak from his grasp. He heard screaming from the four Slytherins, and checked it out. Malfoy was using a tickling charm, and with the magic of the Magnifying Hex, it would feel like torture.

Working quickly, he ran in a circle until he was behind them at a distance. Then, using his ammo, he started his plan. Quietly as possible, he started throwing the stones as hard as he could, moving to a different position each time. When he had their attention, he was gratified to see a silver cloth drop onto the now unconscious form of their victim, rendering him invisible. He dropped the rest of the stones and concentrated on remembering what he needed. Then he raised his face and took a deep breath.

From Malfoy's point of view, it sounded as if a herd of really angry Hippogriffs wanted blood. He reflexively clutched the arm that had been shredded in his third year and gestured for the others to follow him. Then he ran.

Harry watched them for a few minutes, rubbing his throat to try and decrease the soreness. When he was sure they were gone, he went over to where he felt the strange yet familiar magic coming from. Pulling his cloak off of the prone body, he checked him for signs of injury. There was a small burn on his shoulder, but that was the extent of the physical wounds. However, the neural damage could well be worse. Pocketing the cloak, he shouldered the light body, and started trudging towards the hospital wing.

He kicked open the door with some effort, as he was out of breath from his long walk. Madame Pomfrey came rushing towards him.

"Your owl arrived a couple of minutes ago, so I figured there would be work for me. Place him on that bed." Harry lowered him to the bed and started explaining what had happened. She looked rather infuriated with what had happened. She wrote something on a piece of parchment and handed it to him. "Take this to Professor Snape immediately. I need some Nerve Numbing Potion, and I've used the last of my supply." Harry shook his head at his luck. He had managed to avoid the Greasy Git for two weeks, and here he was almost volunteering to see him. Just another after effect of his "Saving People Thing". With a last backwards glance at the student on the bed and headed back out of the doors. He would keep an eye on this Slytherin.


	8. Prongs Rids Again, Take Two

Chapter Eight: Prongs Rides Again, Take Two

Harry was headed towards the library, trying desperately not to feel depressed. Since his decision not to use magic was well known, the professors had tried using all kinds of punishments for his lack of cooperation. His detentions were still piling up, and the extra homework was alarming even to Hermione. The latest measure was to ban him from the Hogsmeade visits. So while all of the other students were gathering right now to head down, he was going to study some more.

Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. He was at the door when a hand fell on his shoulder. His hand twitched towards his wand, but he let it drop when he heard who it was.

"Harry, we need to get you to the Headmaster's office." Tonks and Shacklebolt stood behind him, both looking a little concerned. He nodded glumly and turned to lead them off. They speed up until they were flanking him, and his foreboding increased tenfold. When they reached the gargoyle, he immediately stated the password and they climbed the staircase. At the top of the stairs, the door was open and he could see lots of people seated in chairs around the desk. Fudge sat there, with his scribe Percy to his left. The look the supposed Minister sent his way was less than kindly. He straightened and walked forward slowly to take a seat right next to the desk. The Headmaster was looking calm and unemotional, and Harry adopted the same countenance.

"Well Mr. Potter, the visit here has two purposes." Fudge's voice had a cold edge to it, and Harry found that he couldn't care less. "The first order of business is the retransfer of power back to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Thus I summon the former headmistress." He waved his hand, and Tonks, who had made her way over to the fireplace, tossed in a glittering yellow powder. Harry's heart started beating faster when he heard these words, and he started taking deep breaths. If what he thought was coming happened, he needed to be as in control as he could. It turned out not to be enough.

"Hem Hem." Just the sound of her fake cough was sufficient to set his blood boiling. He formed tight fists, trying with all of his might to calm himself. He noticed in a distracted way that the scars from her detentions were still visible. He closed his eyes and turned away from her, hoping not to have to interact at all. He heard her girlish voice greeting the occupants in the room, saving him for last. He ignored her voice, calming down as quickly as he could. It was all for naught when he felt a touch on his arm. There was an immediate flaring of pain in his head, and he shouted out.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" His eyes opened just in time to see her fly away from him, a look of surprise on her frog-like face. Fudge shouted indignantly, but he was too slow to prevent her descent into the fireplace. She slammed into the back wall, the floo powder still in effect transferred her back to the Ministry. The force of the impact had weakened the stones, however, and it was only seconds later that they collapsed, effectively sealing against her return. Fudge turned to him angrily, his wand in his hand.

"What have you done, Potter? I could have you thrown in Azkaban for assaulting the Undersecretary!" The Headmaster was now standing, trying to calm him.

"Cornelius, is it really necessary to threaten?" He was giving Harry a look that clearly said calm down, but he wasn't really in the mood to do that any more.

"That foul hag deserved everything she got! Is it any wonder that I don't trust you morons at the Ministry of Magic? When you saddled the school with her, you condemned us to torture and possible death!" Fudge looked scornful, but the other three looked shocked at the outburst.

"Really, boy, let's talk about torture. I have proof that you were involved in the casting of an unforgivable curse. The Cruciatus was cast in the Department of Mysteries, and it is from you that I think it came!" He finished with a note of triumph, and the Headmaster was looking panicked. If Harry were convicted of casting an Unforgivable, there would be little he could do to save him from Azkaban. Harry just laughed, and he shivered at how empty of humor it sounded.

"So, I can't cast the Cruciatus curse on _a death eater_, but it's okay for your precious undersecretary to use it on me just because she wants some information? You and your ilk will lead us to death in this war, and I'll not be a party to that!" Harry knew that he was well on the way to losing all of the control he had built up in the past couple of months, so he stalked over to a corner of the room. There he put his hands on the cool stone walls and started taking deep breaths.

Fudge had finally stopped yelling at the implication that Umbridge had tried to torture information out of him. He was unsure of how he should continue with this meeting, so he decided to bluster some more.

"You're always full of some story or another, boy. Why, you just recently started talking about Pettigrew and Black again..." That was as far as he got before the bowl on the table next to him exploded. He started in shock, and heard a deep breath from Harry.

"It would be best if you didn't mention that again. There are witnesses if you don't believe me." He turned and stalked back to the cowering man. "And there's this." He held out the scarred hand, suppressing a sigh when the man refused to look. Thankfully, Kingsley Shacklebolt took up the task. Inspecting the back of his hand, he gasped when he saw the white scars.

"These are the marks of a Blood Quill." There was a growl in his voice that Harry had never heard before. He saw the look on the faces of the others, and the suspicion of her actions was confirmed. He had suspected the device was a Dark one, and he was right. He suddenly felt even more anger than he had before, and control was almost non-existent. His scarred hand shook as he shoved it into the idiot's face voice deadly quiet.

"I spent many nights with her, tortured for simply trying to warn others of Voldemort's return. Stop shuddering, you fool, it's only a name. I wrote over a thousand lines for her." There were gasps of horror from everyone, and Tonks started crying. "And you, you sniveling coward, you put her here and then abandoned all of us to her evil ways. For nothing more than your own personal gain, no less. I think it would be a good idea for you to leave now, and try to stay out of my sight for a good long time." Fudge opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking for all the world like a fish, before he got up and stumbled out the door. The two aurors followed with apologetic glances back at him.

Harry went back to taking his deep breaths, regaining his control now that there was no one to continually rile him. He knew he should be concerned over what Fudge had been saying, but he honestly couldn't bring himself to care. When he finally risked a glance at the Headmaster, he was looking less than sure about what to say. He finally seemed to decide on something, and spoke up.

"Harry, it seems to me that I am in the same boat as Cornelius. I also abandoned you, at a time that you needed me most." He wanted to say more, but he was stopped.

"At least you were working for the greater good, Headmaster." Dumbledore knew that it was true, but when Harry said it, it made him feel cold and unfeeling. He struggled to catch his breath, as there were pains in his chest from all of the emotion he was feeling. They sat quiet form some long moments, each wrapped in his own thoughts before a new voice intruded on them.

"Harry Potter, it has been some time since I last talked with you." Both heads shot around to the source of the words, and found themselves staring at the Sorting Hat. The rip on its brim opened once more. "I carry a message for you. Place me on your head to hear it." Harry didn't hesitate to walk up to the hat and put it on his head, while the Headmaster looked on in interest As soon as the hat slipped past his ears, he heard a voice that was entirely different than the one he had expected.

"Hello again, Harry." The voice of his ancestor rang in his ears, and he smiled automatically. "It has been many weeks since we last spoke. How are things in your life?"

"Well, I'm struggling with classes, just like I thought I would. The teachers aren't too happy with my choices, but there is nothing I can do about that." He felt a strange feeling coming from the presence, and he realized that it was worry. "It's not all bad, though. Hermione is helping me out with the written things, showing me ways to look for more information. Plus, I'm getting in a lot more reading than usual. Once she told me about some memory techniques, I started going through all of the books I could get my hands on. So all in all, I think this has been a good experience." He felt loving approval filling him, but it soon faded away to be replaced with a seriousness he hadn't felt for a while.

"I'm afraid the good news had ended. Even as we speak, a horde of Dementors along with some few Death Eaters are descending on Hogsmeade." Harry's heart felt as if it had been drenched in cold water. Hermione, Ron, and hundreds of other students were down there, almost all of them defenseless against the cold evil of those monsters. He started to remove the Hat, intent on telling the Headmaster this tragedy. "What are you doing?"

"I have to tell the Headmaster, then I have to go help. There aren't too many people around that can cast a Patronus, so having mine could really make a difference." He was surprised that the person he thought he had come to know would ask such a question. There were innocent people in the village, surely it was understood he had to do all he could.

"But you remember your promise, don't you? How could you help them without casting spells? Unless you plan to break your word with me." Harry felt disappointment fill him, but it burned away under the heat of his renewed anger.

"Are you really that insensitive? My word is important to me, but there are things that require us to act. I would rather break a million promises than let those people fend for themselves." Harry felt the words leave him, and he braced himself in case the presence took offense. Instead, he felt something hard land on his head, and a familiar pulling sensation behind his naval. He heard some last words before he no longer felt the Hat on his head.

"You'll do. Go forth and do battle, young Phoenix. We will speak more anon. Remember the Griffin's Claw." When he had regained his balance, he realized he was in a war zone.

Albus Dumbledore tried to keep his breathing under control as he stared at the Sorting Hat. Harry had disappeared not five seconds ago, and he was about to send out a call when a new sound cut his thought processes short.

A claxon was going off, and he shuddered with despair. The Hogsmeade alarm told him without question that the village was under attack, and no matter how much he felt for Harry, the numberless students there now must take precedence. With a swirling of his cloak, he sped out of the room, intent on a portkey he knew resided in the staff room.

Harry glance about with a fighter's eyes, searching for the enemy even as he reveled in the feeling of his wand in his hand. He felt an energy high, power coursing through his body. He finally spotted a group of ten Dementors cornering some students next to a burning building, and he sprinted towards them. There were some on the ground, but two were attempting to stop the shadowy monsters, casting spells that had no effect. They fell to their knees as he got closer, and the lead Dementor went to lower it's hood in preparation for it's most fearsome attack. Harry decided he was close enough. Skidding to a halt, he flung out his arm with the proper incantation, using his joy at once again using magic for fuel.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM_!" He felt the spell leave his wand, and his joy increased. A silver stag larger than any he had cast before burst from the tip, almost seeming to fly to the creatures. They scattered with high pitched screams, fleeing from the students that they wanted to feed from. Harry checked them over, noticing that only one was still conscious, and gave a start when he realized it was Jason. The Slytherin was staring at him in awe, and Harry gave him a small grin before more screaming ripped through the air. He looked in all directions, and he despaired of ever helping everyone. No matter where he looked, there were shadowy cloaks flowing, and people in danger. His Patronus might be strong, but there was no way it could protect the entire village at once. The stag faded from his sight, and his head gave a shuddering tingle. For the second time in his life, he felt his thoughts racing around, putting together information he was sure wasn't there before. His wand rose again, and glowing runes burned in the air, spreading until they formed a circle.

He stuck his wand into the middle of his circle, and his legs started shaking as he felt energy being pulled from his body to his wand hand. In his mind, memories came fast and furious: his friends laughing and playing, flying high above the ground, they all flashed before his eyes, only to be pulled to his spell, making the glowing circle seem even brighter. Gather what strength he could, he shouted the spell newly formed in his mind.

"_EXPECTO PATRONUM ACIES_!" He fell to his knees as the energy that was supporting him disappeared. When he raised his head, he only saw a field of silver. At least a hundred stags ran about, chasing down Dementors, sometimes teaming up to tackle a particularly large group. Smiling at the even more astonished Jason, he made to stand, but a tingle warned him against it. Throwing himself forward, he winced when the fourth year was hit with a Stunner. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a masked figure stalking towards him, and he knew there wasn't much he could do about it. He tried to cast a shield spell, the Stunning Curse, anything, but nothing happened. The Death Eater walked up to his side and casually kicked him.

"So Potter, looks like your luck finally ran out." The voice of Lucius Malfoy made him stir, but another kick quickly stilled his movement. "As much as I would like to kill you myself, the Dark Lord wants that pleasure for himself. However..." He bent over him, and started beating him with his fists. Harry tried to put up a defense, but he was so drained he only stopped less than half of the punches. He knew he wouldn't be able to prevent his capture, and he realized that he was going to die soon. Earlier in the summer, he had been ready to give up, but things were different now. He had to survive, for everyone's sake. His hands tingled, as the words from the voice came back to him. Remember...

"Griffin's Claw." The tingling intensified at his whisper, and Lucius bent closer, having finished his attack.

"Well Potter, time to meet the Dark L-" His words broke off suddenly, and he stumbled back, holding his stomach. Harry looked from the shocked expression on his pale face to the blood staining the silver end of the sword in his hands. They sat and stood in silence for a minute, each staring at the other. Then, with a small sigh, the patriarch of the Malfoy family slumped to the ground, to stand no more. Before Harry could even think, however, there was an anguished cry.

Draco Malfoy stood not ten feet away, screaming his rage at the boy who lived.

"You killed my father, Potter. You will pay! _Crucio_!" Harry twitched as the pain ran across his nerves, causing him to scream. Once again, he felt the pain connect with something deep inside himself, and he saw flames. Draco's insane laughing turned into screams of pain. The pain disappeared as the screams started, and Harry lifted his head to see his enemy draped in flames. He shuddered as it caused him to remember what had happened to the others, and as suddenly as they appeared, the flames died out. There was a Crack! and Draco was gone, apperated out. Harry lay back down, trying to calm his stomach as the smell of burnt flesh drifted towards him.

Only to sit back up again, causing some pain again to his sore muscles. There was something hard in his pocket, and it felt like a book. He pulled it out, but the pressure of the battle was starting to get to him. As his eyes drifted shut, he read the cover. _What You Need To Know About Yourself_ by Godric Gryffindor.


	9. Aftermath

**Chapter Nine: Aftermath**

_He drifted through a blue light, being pulled towards some item in the distance. It sat on a pedestal, a golden cage surrounding it. As he got closer, it became a book. He could almost read the letters when..._

Harry's eyes snapped open, suddenly and clearly. Well, clearly wasn't exactly right, because his glasses weren't on. He could see enough, however, to know that he was in the hospital wing. Sitting up, he found his glasses on the table and put them on, looking around for anyone to call. He saw the book sitting in his lap, and it all came back to him. Godric Gryffindor was his ancestor. It really made sense when he thought about it. His thoughts were interrupted by Madame Pomfrey.

"Mr. Potter! What are you doing? Lay back down immediately." He chuckled to himself at her tone, marveling that she could sound so irritated and concerned at the same time.

"Really, I feel fine. I was just tired." He was a little startled to realize that this was the truth. He felt like he could play a whole round of Quidditch without fail. He gave her a charming smile, causing her to falter, before he heard a sound at the door. Whirling quickly, he pointed his wand at the people standing there. The healer glanced at the bedside table, where the wand had been a second ago. She hadn't seen him grab it.

"Really, Harry, are you going to hex us?" Ron sounded uncertain, as he didn't want to be hit by one of his curses. Harry smiled sheepishly, lowering his wand. Hermione made her way over to him, followed closely by Ron, Luna, and Neville. They all grabbed chairs and surrounded him, but not before there were many hugs exchanged. All of them started talking at once, and there seemed to be two main topics. What had he done in the village, and whether he was feeling all right.

"Seriously, I'm fine. As for explanations, I think it would be best if we waited for a certain Headmaster so I don't have to repeat myself. Ah, here he comes." The others turned to the door, but it was a good minute before Albus Dumbledore stepped through. Hermione sent him a curious glance, but she didn't say anything.

"My boy, I'm glad to see you looking so well. Though you are a little paler than I like." Harry gave a chuckle, then straitened with a blank look on his face.

"Well, defeating the forces of darkness single handedly is quite taxing." Everyone looked at him with some surprise, then burst out laughing. He continued. "Honestly, I'm glad you're here. I've been bombarded with questions, and I don't think I could have held out much longer. First though, I think some privacy is in order." The Headmaster looked a little shocked.

"Well, Harry, Poppy is in her office, and I assume you want your friends here for this. Who else could we possibly hide this from?" He drew a breath when the laughter disappeared from Harry's face and was replaced with a coldness.

"I believe we have discussed this issue, _Headmaster_." Albus tried not to wince when he heard the tone Harry put on his title. Even his friends seemed unsure about what they were talking about, but Albus could see disappointment and even sadness in the eyes of his favorite student. Without another word, his eyes never leaving the Headmaster's, Harry lifted his wand and pointed it at a corner of the room. "_Invisus Visus_." A stream of golden lights poured from his wand to cover what seemed to be a man-sized shape standing there. "_Accio." _A silvery cloth flew to his waiting hand, leaving an uncovered Mad-Eye Moody. He looked a little disgruntled, but left when Dumbledore nodded. Harry waved his wand in a circular motion above him, whispering what seemed to be quite a long spell. When he brought it down sharply, the air seemed to shimmer for a second, then settled. The Headmaster seemed to be having trouble forming words, but thankfully Hermione was more than able. With wide eyes, she posed her question.

"Was that the Illusion Shield? But what was the rest of it?" She inched closer to him, obviously eager for the answer, while everyone else except the Headmaster looked slightly confused.

"Yeah. It seemed like the best idea right now." Seeing the confused faces, he explained what they were talking about. "Anyone who sees us over here will think we're talking about some boring class assignment, except for Ron, of course. He'll be pestering us about Quidditch." Ron gave a start at this, and Harry laughed. "Well, it wouldn't be believable if you were calmly talking about homework, would it? As for the rest: a notice me not so that they won't notice the Headmaster sitting in on this discussion, and a small repelling charm so they feel inclined not to interrupt us." He seemed not to notice the dropped jaws seated around him, as he was busy cleaning his glasses. Putting them back on his face, he started his tale.

"It all started over the summer, when I pretty much frightened the Dursleys into submission, seeing as how things tended to explode when they upset me." The others gave him a look at this, but he ignored it. "Anyway, I was in the park one day, and I met a boy by the name of Mark Evans, and saved him from the ministrations of my cousin. That's when Bellatrix and a cadre of Death Eaters showed up. Seeing as how she loved me so, she felt a round of the _Cruciatus_ was in order. When I didn't scream enough for her satisfaction, they thought Mark would be more fun to play with." There were gasps all around, and even Luna looked less dazed than usual. "Indeed. I, however, felt that Mark would not appreciate her skills, so I ...covered him." He blushed here, most likely at the look of awe on Ron's and Neville's faces. "Anyway, they burned up, I was somehow subjected to a seriously mean spell...well that's not important. What is what happened while I was under." Hermione snapped at his casual tone.

"What do you mean it's not important that you were under the influence of the most evil spell in creation? Honestly, Harry, you will be the death of me!" He gave a chuckle at her statement.

"Well Hermione, I'll try to do better. So, while I was under, I saw things." They saw a shadow in his eyes as he said this, and he stopped talking for a couple of minutes, staring into space. "I'll only tell you the really important parts. After a little bit, Voldemort," nobody flinched, and a smile came back to his face, "decided to pay me a visit. There was the usual, I'm gonna kill you, when I rule the world, blah, blah, blah." Here he grinned with a mischievous air. "Would you believe he called himself the Lord of Eternal Darkness? Anyway, I made some comments, called him Tommy, said he was acting like a baby, and then we dueled." The students around the bed stared at him with horror. It was Hermione that spoke.

"You called that insane dark lord a _baby_? What were you thinking?" He rubbed his ears and looked towards the Headmaster, who was relieved to note that the coldness had disappeared.

"I learned it from a certain personage. So we dueled, our wands connected...although I suppose it was the _idea _of our wands, since they weren't really there with us." He trailed off again, this time looking thoughtful. Hermione seemed surprised at his words, while Ron, Neville, and Ginny looked confused. Luna, however, looked just as thoughtful as he. "So, instead of the regular _Priori Incantatem_, where the spells performed simply repeat, I somehow ended up in his mind." There were gasps, and the Headmaster looked slightly worried. Hermione, of course, looked sympathetic, but unsurprised. "Well, I think when I won the battle, I got information from him. There were a couple of spells that I do not want to think about." Here he shuddered, remembering the glimpses of darkness he had gotten. "On the plus side, I did find some really fascinating things. The spell I just performed is one of them. He found it in an ancient copy of _Nylard's Tome of Attacks_." He saw the Headmaster and Hermione both open their mouths to protest, and cut them off. "Yes, I know it's not in the copy the library holds. Apparently, it was edited out of the book about a hundred years ago, and Voldemort found an old copy." He looked around at the others, and sighed at their slightly awed, confused faces. Hopping off of the edge of the bed he was sitting on, he addressed the Headmaster. "I need to head back up to your office, I left my things there. I'll see you guys later." He headed off towards the office, Dumbledore not far behind. When they entered, Harry bowed to the Sorting Hat.

"All went well, as I'm sure you know. Thank you for everything...do you have a name? I feel odd calling you 'Hat'."

"I was called Taslan by Godric, though no one has called me that since." Albus stared at the Hat in shock. He was ashamed to think that he had never even tried to discover if it had a name. With a final bow, Harry picked up his pack and left. The three occupants sat there in silence, each thinking to themselves, though Fawkes hummed slightly. Then the silence was broken. "I'm glad I don't have to sort him again. I'm afraid I'd have an even harder time." Albus looked at him with some amusement.

"You mean that he is no longer split between two houses?" The hat-Taslan- shook it's tip back and forth.

"His ambition is even greater now than it was in his second year, and I sense some slyness lurking close to the top. His bravery burns bright in his center, though it has recently taken a rather harsh blow." He bowed his head at this remark, knowing Harry still felt uncertain about his actions concerning Sirius. "His willingness to work hard and his loyalty to those he cares for are unsurpassed. I even sense some thirst for knowledge in him, though it is limited to one or two fields. Yes, I'm glad he is safely placed." The ancient Headmaster sat in his chair, thinking about the many things he had learned today. Most of all, he recalled the horror he had felt when Harry was under the _Mal Dumier_. It had made older, less pleasant memories surface, ones he had kept locked away for over fifty years. Finally, he spoke into the silence.

"I miss you."

A week later, Harry sat in his common room, glad that classes had been cancelled for the day. Not only could he avoid all of the questions, he finally had a chance to rest. When he wasn't doing make-up practical work for his classes, he was practicing with some of his abilities in the Room of Requirement. Both Mage Sense and Spell Sight were ones that were best not to use in Hogwarts. He had tried training both of them twice each, and had come away with a headache from all of the spells and wards around the grounds. He was mostly concentrating on his empathic touch for now, hoping to train it to maximum capacity.

He was in the middle of his meditation right now, with his back towards the fireplace. By concentrating on a certain event, with a single touch he could transfer the emotions evoked by that memory to anyone he touched. It was like something the muggle psychologists were always talking about, and he was about ready to test his advancement.

What made things hard was the nature of the ability. There was no turning it on, so to speak. It was always on, and all of his struggle was to attempt to either confine the transfer to one point on his body or dampen all parts completely. Then, if he needed to use it, he could simply stop holding back. This made it more dangerous than other abilities, because if he lost control and touched someone, he could easily destroy their mind.

He was fairly certain, however, that he had progressed far enough to nullify that danger. And even if he hadn't, there was his backup plan. What he needed now, however, was the person to share with. He had settled on the feeling of flying on a broomstick, the freedom that came with being suspended in midair. He needed someone that didn't fly, so that their own feelings wouldn't taint the experiment. He had managed to restrict the contact points to his hands, because any less would result in a pounding headache. He had just opened his eyes when someone shook his shoulder.

"Hey, Hermione. I was just thinking some things over." She looked at him with her eyes curious, and he decided to let her in on the experiment. Her eyes widened with wonder as he started talking, shaking her head at some intervals. "So, what do you think?"

Hermione was stunned, to say the least. She had known that Harry was keeping secrets, but something on this level was disturbing. No wonder he looked so tired all of the time. Ron had told her that he rarely came to the dorm before one in the morning, and was always gone before the others awoke. When they met down at breakfast, he was fully awake, and looked as he had been for a while. She decided to try for some information in a roundabout way. While Harry had been much more open since his ordeal, there were still times when he closed off if pressured.

"So...if it's so dangerous, how are you certain that the person you 'share' with won't be hurt? I mean, you only been training a couple of days." He looked unfocused, and he let something slip that she was sure he hadn't meant to.

"Don't worry so much, I've trained this ability for over thirty hours..." He trailed off when he realized what he had said, but it was too late.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?" He winced, and tried to shush her. Everyone in the dorms would have heard her. She took a deep breath and continued in a somewhat strained but calmer voice. "Where did you find that kind of time in the six days since Hogsmeade? You haven't skipped classes, and you haven't disappeared on us for long time periods, so that leaves only nighttime." He nodded to her, and decided that withholding more would lead to unpleasantness.

"And early morning. It's really the best time to get almost anything done." He gave her a winning smile, but she wasn't buying into it.

"But when do you get sleep? You must be running around exhausted all of the time."

"I sleep at night, like everyone else. I just settle for a shorter time, that's all." Her face took on a dangerous look, and he concentrated on his memory of flying, hoping that it would help him control his emotions.

"Exactly how long in 'shorter'?"

"Well, I usually get four hours of really good rest, and then I'm up again." As he had feared, she exploded. Luckily, he had erected a silencing charm to prevent unwanted eavesdropping.

"THAT IS NOT NEARLY ENOUGH TIME FOR PROPER REST, HARRY POTTER!" He winced as the charm echoed her words back at him.

"Actually, that's better then I've had in a long while. I used to be lucky to get two hours before I kicked what's his face out of my head. Now, without him, and with my nightmares finally taking a back seat, I can enjoy quiet up here." He tapped his head, and gave her another grin, holding on to his memory as hard as he could when the thoughts of Voldemort and his nightmares tried to break his control. "Of course, I'm not used to all that much sleep, so my body wakes up after a certain period of time. Since I'm up anyway, I decided to put that spare time to good use." He saw the tears in her eyes, and wished fervently that she wasn't about to cry. I made him feel so useless when girls cried, as if all the training in the world wasn't good enough to handle this situation. That's when she reached for his hands. He tried to stop her, but it was far too late. She made contact.

He could tell exactly when the feelings started transferring, because the look on her face started changing. He tried to jerk his hands away, but she held on tightly, a lost, awed look in her eyes. He didn't want to hurt her hands, so he concentrated on just the memory, and making sure that it didn't flow into her too quickly. After about five minutes, she finally let go, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't come close to losing control, but he had still been worried about it.

"What was _that_?" Her words came out in a breathy whisper, and he used the smile she hadn't seen since Umbridge had banned him from flying.

"_That_ is what I feel when I'm flying. Total freedom, no worries, and a thrill like nothing else." He glanced around her to the boy's staircase. "Don't tell Ron, but I could really care less for Quidditch." There was a shocked look on her face, and he gave her another grin. "Sure, it's fun, and I'm rather competitive, but that's just a bonus. I really like it so much be cause it gives me the perfect excuse to be in the air. I have reason-and even encouragement- to fly as high as I want, at mind-bending speeds." He rolled his eyes with joy, and she grinned back at him, not knowing it was a perfect copy of his previous one. He gave a chuckle at her stood up, offering her a hand. "Well, I'd better wake the Captain up, otherwise there won't be time for him to warm up the team. I may not be able to play, but Gryffindor should definitely still win." Hermione smiled at him. He had spent so much time with the new seeker, Dennis Creevy, that she admired him sacrificing himself to the awed boys, as his brother always joined them. Since he still wasn't allowed to be on the Quidditch pitch, they spent most sessions in the stands, going over seeker plays and strategies. He had recently added three-dimensional simulations.

Hermione watched him climb the stairs to his room, whistling a jaunty tune. She had never heard him whistle before, and decided she should talk to him more about what he enjoyed. She had never been fond of brooms, because there wasn't really a way to learn about it from books. Combine that with the fact that she felt uncomfortable at large heights, and you did not have an avid flyer. With this new insight, though, she might give it another try. She would need a tutor, and the only person that came to mind was Harry. She had seen his patience with the students in the DA, and she knew it would extend to teaching flying. Hopefully, she could overcome her uncertainty, because what she had felt today was definitely worth a little effort.

They sat together in the Gryffindor stands, cheering on their team. Hermione clutched at the seat, watching Ron deflect another score attempt just in time to dodge a bludger. She may not have admitted it, but the games were sometimes exciting, and she had started looking forward to seeing them play. Her concentration was so intense, she was startled when Harry stood up. She gave him a curious glance.

"I want to go see Professor McGonagall. Maybe if I work hard enough, she'll let me train with the team at their next practice. I'm not going to steal Dennis's spot, but I can help him learn the ropes." She gave him a nod, and stood up to go along. The game was close, and she was getting to involved. If she wasn't distracted now, she was surely going to end up yelling her lungs out. They walked down the steps, and headed over to the teachers stand to see if they would be allowed to talk to their Head of House. They might as well have not wasted their time, because Snape was sitting near the entrance, and absolutely refused to let them by.

"Unless there is an emergency," and the sneer on his face made them doubt he would relent even in such circumstances, "students are not allowed on the staff areas." They turned around to walk back to their seats, Hermione scowling darkly and Harry smirking.

"What are you so pleased about? He just blew us off without even letting us speak." His grin widened, and she felt a little better about the situation,

"Just think about it Hermione. He took so much pleasure in foiling out 'grand plan', and it was pretty worthless. We just have to wait until the game is over, and we'll be able to talk to her. He's so childish and petty, how can you not laugh?" And he did just that, laughing his head off, staggering every couple of steps. She joined him with a quiet chuckle, and they stopped to keep from falling over.

"AND HE HAS DONE IT, FOLKS." The magnified voice of Dean Thomas rang out over the crowd. "NEW GRYFFINDOR SEEKER DENNIS CREEVY CATCHES THE SNITCH, LEAVING THE TOTAL AT 250 TO 130 GRYFFINDOR!" They clapped with everyone else, but their joy was short lived. With a creek, the Gryffindor stands wobbled for a few seconds-and then collapsed.

There were students screaming all over the place, teachers shouting commands, and general chaos all about, but that wasn't what interested Harry. No, what he was concerned about was that fact that seconds after the collapse, Hermione had grabbed at her head, yelled out, and then fainted.


	10. Stand By You

**Chapter Ten: Stand By You**

Harry stared into the common room fire, watching the flames dance as he half-listened to Ron's rant. This was as bad as in the second year. Hermione had collapsed after the disaster at the pitch, and Madame Pomfrey didn't know what was wrong. Ron finished his ranting and stormed up to the dorm, no doubt trying to forget the things that were happening. Harry didn't have that option.

"What's wrong with Hermione?" He spoke to the flames, not really expecting an answer. So he started when Godric's book thumped open and started flipping through pages on its own. When it stopped, he picked it up and started reading.

_The little known and rare power of Empathic Healing is different in many ways from the other abilities listed here. While it never appears before the Sixteenth year, it will sometimes not make itself known for some time after. It requires an additional push to be fully activated. Mental contact with another Empath will set forward the events that lead to a full Empathic Healer._

**Warning :**_ Once the Empath is activated, it is essential to distance them from any human physical pain or suffering, by at least a couple of miles. Dues to the sensitive nature of the ability, the newly emerged Empath will experience other's pains as their own. The ban will last for 48 hours, after which time a mental barrier will have formed to protect them form the worst of the sensations. If the Empath is subjected to too much pain with no relief, it is likely they will lose their sanity, as demonstrated by the Cruciatus curse._

There were warning signs listed, as well as another couple of pages describing different ways to use the ability, but Harry had read enough. With a wave of his wand, a piece of old parchment came soaring from hid dorm. Tapping it lightly, he whispered,

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Lines started tracing themselves on the sheet, soon creating a replica of Gryffindor tower. Scanning it carefully, he saw that most of the inhabitants were safely in their beds. He made his way to the door, watching as the map shifted, looking at the floors above and below. Satisfied that he could leave with no notice, he exited the portrait hole, keeping his eye on the map.

It was an interesting trip to the infirmary. The caretaker and Mrs. Norris seemed particularly active tonight, and having left his invisibility cloak in the tower, he was forced to hide a lot. When he finally did make it there, he was almost foiled by the nurse, as she was still making rounds. He hid in the shadows, watching as she checked many beds, including Hermione's. He held his breath, wondering at what she might do, but she only shook her head. The last bed checked, she headed towards her quarters. He waited an additional couple of minutes before he made his way to her bed.

Once he sat himself next to her, he concentrated on the explanation he had read in the book.

_The Sharing Touch is one of the simpler forms of Empathy, as it requires a physical contact to invoke the mental connection. The first use of this ability is to transfer feeling, emotions, and, in an advanced application, images and words to the recipient. This effect can also be reversed, taking these things from another's mind. The use of Occlumency will hinder the process._

Harry thought about what he was planning to do. Here he sat, basically volunteering to put himself through an unknown amount of pain. He smiled a little as he remembered Hermione's comment about saving people. Time to get to work.

Placing his hand so that their fingertips touched, he concentrated on what she must be feeling, lost in the pain, as he had so many times. He searched for it, carefully treading the corners of her mind until he started catching glimpses, bright red lights wreathed in shadow. He called to them, slowly retreating to his own mind dragging the lights with him.

His breath caught in his throat as he became aware of the pain. It slammed into him with the force of a Bludger, almost causing him to cry out. It was not unbearable, though. It hurt mightily, but his experiences with both physical injury and the pain from his scar helped him diffuse the feelings until he felt he was in control. It settled into a steady flow of pain from her to him, but he barely noticed.

What was much more important was the fact that the shadow bruises were fading from he arms and face, and she stopped tossing around in the bed. Her breathing evened out until she at last fell into a natural sleep. His head slipping down onto the bed until the task of keeping himself awake was too much, and he too drifted into a slumber, kneeling her side.

Poppy Pomfrey walked into the Hospital area, trying not to yawn as the long night and scant sleep caught up with her. She stopped at the sight greeting her. Harry Potter lay sleeping, kneeling by the bed of Hermione Granger. Their fingertips were touching, and whenever her hand moved, his followed at the same time, never losing contact.

"What do you think you are doing, Mr. Potter!" She longed to yell, but the other sleeping patients kept her voice to a low growl. He jumped up at her question, though she noted his fingers still did not move. His face flushed red as he considered the situation.

Madame, if you will give me a second, I will explain." It was not to be as she interrupted.

"Absolutely not! Unhand my patient and exit the room at once." She expected him to comply right away, and was shocked when he merely winced.

"I'm afraid that's not possible right now. I do, however, have a really good excuse-"

"That's is ridiculous! Leave before I have to remove you by force!" When he shook his head, she was honestly surprised. "You refuse?" He nodded, prompting a sigh from her. Touching her badge, she said the incantation that she had only been forced to use twice in her twenty year tenure at Hogwarts.

Harry felt as if a powerful wind picked him up from the bedside, and started shifting him towards the entrance. He fought it with all his might, knowing that Hermione might soon slip into insanity if he wasn't there. There was at least another twenty-four hours left until the barrier in her mind was complete. He started protesting, trying to get the nurse to listen to reason, but she seemed implacable. When he glanced towards Hermione, he saw that she had started tossing again, and there was the hint of a bruise forming on her face. He drew his wand, sad that he was about to do this.

"I'm really, really sorry. _Speculum Impellere_!" The force moving him disappeared, rounding on her and freezing her in place. Ignoring her startled cry, he ran back over to the bed, quickly reestablishing the connection. When he was sure she was resting again, he turned to the shocked and still nurse. "As I was trying to say before, I have a valid reason for doing this. Hermione is an Empathic Healer." He was sure that she would have gasped if she was able. "I didn't know this, and I accidentally activated her about," he glanced at the clock "twenty-three hours ago. With all of these people injured...well, I'm sure you know the danger. I'm in the middle of channeling her pain so she can recover until her shield is finished. Now, I'm going to end the spell, and I would appreciate it if you would do the same. _Finite Incantatem_!" He felt a few seconds of the pulling force before she ended the spell.

"I must see the Headmaster, and inform him of the new situation."

"That's fine, but if you could hurry with healing the rest of the students, I would be grateful." At her raised eyebrows, he explained. "Well, I would like to eat and use the bathroom at some point, and Hermione needs another day or so before she can face it alone." She nodded her understanding before heading back to her rooms, no doubt to floo the Headmaster. Harry concentrated on the girl in front of him for a while, then reached into his pocket and pulled out Godric's book. It still amazed him that no matter what, it always ended up back in his pocket. He was reading up on the Foe Flames ability when a shout made him jump.

"WHAT GOING ON HERE?" The angry voice of Ron rang through the room, startling some of the other occupants. They moved, increasing the flow of pain Harry was feeling. His head started aching, which may be why he did what he did.

"Get you hands off of-" Ron stopped talking as he felt the pressure settle on him, pushing. He looked at Harry, and saw a familiar fire in his eyes.

"I'm afraid, Ron, that moving from this spot would have a negative impact on her sanity, so you're going to have to accept my being here." The boy's face turned a deep red at this, and he started struggling against whatever held him. Harry ignored him and tried to concentrate on helping his friend through this trial. Ron started cursing, and the healer came rushing into the room.

"Mr. Weasley, I will ask you to have some respect for healing people. If you cannot moderate your tone and language, you will be banned from this room."

"What about him?" She merely glanced at Harry before turning her gaze back to the redhead.

"Mr. Potter is assisting me, and he is being very quiet about it." Ron's face was doing a credible imitation of his uncle, and Harry decided to try for a little peace.

"Listen, Ron-" was as far as he got before the stupid boy started yelling.

"I guess the Famous Harry Potter can't go a single day without some special attention. Have to get everything, don't you? Can't leave anything for me? I should have known that you would take what I wanted!" Harry kept his face expressionless, but he felt the hurt and anger burning inside of him. He turned his attention back to Hermione, trying not to let his emotions out of control. Behind him, Madame Pomfrey shooed him out, above his protests and vituperation of Harry's character. Harry tried to block out the words, but they kept coming back to haunt him. By now, the anger was gone, but the pain stayed. He had hoped to head off any jealous rampages and tirades, because a repeat of his fourth year was not what he was looking for. All of those thoughts ran from his head when a pair of brown eyes opened up beneath him.

"Harry? What's happening?"

"Well, Hermione, that's a little complicated."

Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey finished healing the other students in a couple of hours, so Harry had the opportunity to go to the loo. He and Hermione had lunch in the infirmary, so as not to subject her to the staring and whispering. They were, at the moment, talking about the other part of their group.

"I can't believe he just went off an you like that! Didn't he learn his lesson last time?" She had been yelling for a couple of minutes now, and only the chastizing of the nurse calmed her down. Harry had sat quietly through the entire scene, and when she turned to him, she was surprised to see him staring pensively into space. "Harry? What's wrong?" She looked him in the eye and was shocked to see the lost expression there.

"I don't think I can go through this again." He leaned over and placed his head in his hands.

"Now Harry, you just need to give him time to come around." She stroked his hair, but his head shook beneath her hand.

"You don't understand. When I was in that coma, I was almost lost. The only reason I made it out was you two." She gave a start and he smiled wearily. "It's rather complicated, but I was something like an astral projection for a while." His face took on a blissful expression, one she rarely saw, and he continued. "There was no pain where I drifted, even though I knew my body was in pain. I had a hard time convincing myself to go back. Eventually, I had to do something rather drastic." He stopped talking, and she waited with baited breath before prodding.

"Go on."

"I used the thought of our friendship, you, me, and Ron, to tie myself to this plane, this body." He placed a hand on his chest, and she drew a breath in sharply. This could be bad. "I don't know if it was a permanent tie, or if was only needed that one time. The point is, Ron left, and it makes me feel uncertain. And when I feel like that, I'm not sure I'm as solidly _here_ as I should be." His hand shook a little, and she grasped it. "Besides that though, it _hurts_ when he turns his back on me. I would give anything for either of you, even up to my life. Why can't he just trust my actions?" Hermione was horrifically interested in the tears pooling in Harry's eyes. There was a time when he would never have cried in front of her, or even have shown any emotion besides anger. Now he had cried in front of her twice. She felt that he had gone through a rather profound change, and it was up to her to make sure it didn't destroy him.

Some hours later, after showering in Gryffindor Tower, they met by the lake to avoid both questions and the drama of running into Ron. They sat on a boulder kept warm with a heating charm, discussing something in very serious tones: Dumbledore's Army.

"Harry, we need to open up the group to more people. There's no reason to keep it secret this year, so we can advertise and everything." Her eyes sparkled, and Harry restrained a groan, thinking of DA flyers, or the possibility of her creating a longer, ridiculous acronym.

"Hermione, I don't want to come across as paranoid, but secrecy is a safety precaution." She opened her mouth, but he continued over her protest. "Last year, Umbridge made it illegal to have this club going. I know, that's not the way it is _now_,but can you guarantee the future? If we reveal ourselves totally, what happens when someone comes along that wishes us harm? It'll be too late then, we won't be able to hide." Her expression had slid into a thoughtful one, and he added another argument to firmly steer her to his side. "If we want, we can always come out into the open later, but _re_-concealing ourselves would be nearly impossible." They sat in silence for a few minutes as she digested his words, and he was rewarded with her firm head nod.

"Alright, I can see your point. _But_, we do need to open membership a little."

"Yes, that's a good idea, but we need to be careful about it, and we need to firmly reestablish the core group before then." He looked around, and cast a few privacy charms, tied them to a few hiding charms, and followed with an illusion. By the end, he was breathing heavily, and Hermione had a worried look on her face. "Don't worry, I'm just a little tired, and joining spells isn't that easy. Now, I have an idea about secrecy." He pulled out Godric's book and flipped to the Awakening Spell near the back. Placing it in her lap, he tapped it. "Can you read this?" She frowned at the pages, and shook her head.

"I can't even tell there's writing on it." She tried to turn the page, and gasped with surprise when they acted as if glued together. "What-"

"Shh." He placed a hand over hers on the book, and one over her eyes. He cleared his throat and intoned. "By right of blood and magic, lift the veil and unlock the hand, grant allowance to this person." His hands tingled, and he removed them. He heard her gasp when she read the pages, and he heard them moving as she flipped through them.

"Harry, this is..." He grinned at her shocked expression, and nodded back.

"I know, it's really cool. But, do you see the point of this?" She nodded with some shock, and he grinned even more broadly. "Now, I need to ask you to be my secondary." Together, they made plans to cast the spell, unaware that a pair of eyes searched for them from the school doors.

They stood now on the outside of the front doors, Hermione glancing around nervously, Harry trying to center his mind. It had been an interesting day. She and Harry had spent a lot of time closeted together, making plans to conduct the small ritual at midnight the next day. When Sunday morning had rolled around, Madame Pomfrey had gone through many test to make sure her abilities were firmly in control. There was talk of bringing in another Healer to train her, as there was hardly time for the school nurse to train her intensively. Hermione had only been partially listening, however, as all of her thoughts centered on this moment.

Finally, he opened his eyes and lifted his hands. In his right rested the sword of Godric Gryffindor, in his left, his wand. Handing his wand to Hermione, he began the instruction.

"Hold that with your own, and place them on the back of my neck. I'm going to be using that connection as the anchor for my magic, so try not to move it." His voice was slightly distant, causing a slight shiver, but she nodded. "It's best not to say anything, because I might get distracted, but there aren't really any horrible consequences to stopping the spell in the middle, so if there's an emergency, feel free to shout. Are you ready?" She went over the instructions in her mind, and satisfied that everything was clear, she nodded. "Good. Let's get started."

She placed the point of both her own wand and his on the back of his neck, making sure there was no obstruction. The collar of his black ceremonial robe (where had he gotten that?) presented no problem, as it ended at his shoulder blades. Her hands tingled when the wands made contact with his skin, and she could hear his chant, as well as feel the waves of magic falling from him.

"_By the blood of Gryffindor that flows through me_." The magic started gathering, almost as a ripple in the ocean. "_By the ancient silver sword of my ancestors_." She heard three light pings, but the brilliant light gathering on Harry's form prevented her from seeing what he had done. The magic was gaining strength, forming higher and higher. "_Let my right be recognized as a power for life_." The magic was the size of a tidal wave now, barely restrained by the three parts already incanted. She tensed in preparation for the end. "_Let your power wake to my will_." The power rushed forth, bombarding the ancient castle, as the coast is bombarded by the sea. There was a quiet moment, and then everything was reversed.

Power came towards them in waves, slamming into the wizard in front of her. She could see his body tensing with the pressure, though she felt only the smallest of ripples. What interested her more was the design being traced on his robe in liquid fire. Curved lines swirled in on each other as others formed angles.

When the flames had disappeared, she studied the whole effect and was immediately interested. Thin golden lines formed a sword that lay across the chest of a bird- looked like a Phoenix, if she remembered correctly. Thicker red lines formed a flame background that was actually swirling in on itself. It was rather impressive to say the least, but she didn't get more of a chance to admire it. The entire robe faded from her view, leaving him in his regular clothes. He turned to her and reclaimed his wand, smiling slightly, though there was an awed look on his face.

"Well that wasn't-" was as far as he got before he collapsed.

"Madame Pomfrey!" She dragged Harry through the door, slightly winded from her efforts. The nurse showed up, looking slightly disgruntled with her late visitors. The cranky look on her face disappeared as soon as she saw who it was.

"What has gotten to Mr. Potter now?" The question sounded almost resigned.

"He collapsed." There was some wand work from the nurse, and Harry was soon laid out on a bed, with some spell lights playing over him. Hermione stood nearby, trying to control the shaking she felt, and scrambling desperately for excuses. After some minutes, the lights faded, and Madame Pomfrey turned to her.

"He's going through a Re-forging, so there's not much we can do." Hermione gasped, wondering at the turn the events had taken. "What's more interesting is the fact that you're going through one as well, though it is very minor in comparison to his." There was a look on her face that spoke of trepidation, and even a faint hint of red in her cheeks. When she spoke, the words were both slightly hesitant and stern. "I know we are not very close, but it is part of my job to make sure that you are fully prepared for the physical and magical consequences of engaging in this particular activity." The implications of what she was saying finally made sense, and Hermione's cheeks flushed brighter than even a Weasley's. She opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted by the opening of the infirmary door.

"I figured I'd find Harry down here." Neville stood there in some trousers, his nightshirt rumpled and a dazed look on his face. When the questioning looks turned to him, he shrugged. "I didn't see him in his bed, and Ron was still there, so I figured someone should make sure he was okay." Hermione gave him a shaky smile, then sat on the edge of the nearest bed as the room started spinning. The slight smile on his face was replaced with a frown of concern when he saw Harry's still form a few feet away. "What happened?"

"That, Mr. Longbottom, is a question I myself would like the answer to." The voice of the Headmaster shocked Hermione closer to stability, though she still had trouble telling which vision of him was real. "Now, I need to talk to Poppy, and then I'll be right with you." He took the slightly blushing nurse off to the side, and there was soon the faint murmuring of voices. Neville looked to her for an explanation, and she shrugged.

"Harry and I are both going through a re-forging." She took in the quizzical look on his face and clarified. "When a person's magic is forced to react strongly to an external magical influence, it starts changing, evolving into something different. Since each episode must be ignited by something more powerful than the last, they don't happen too often in a person's life. By the end, you may not have any new abilities, but it is likely that you will have access to more raw power, and your defenses are increased. I'm in the middle of a minor one, which only makes me fell dizzy and shaky. Harry is unconscious, so his is obviously much stronger than mine."

Off to the side, a somewhat similar conversation was taking place.

"Albus, I have some concerns about the activities these teenagers are engaging in." He almost laughed at her expression, but was able to control himself with some effort.

"Fear not, Poppy, it is doubtful that this is one of those situations. There is most likely a reasonable explanation for their joint re-forging." The healer frowned, shaking her head slightly.

"What is most curious, I suppose, is the fact that while this is Ms. Granger's third episode since her schooling started, this is the first I recall for Mr. Potter. It is most unusual for a wizard to go through his first six years of school with not a single event. I had thought he was experiencing a mild one at the end of his forth year, but on further review, it was simply shock." The headmaster looked at her gravely, then led her even further from the three students.

"This will be Harry's third major episode this year." Poppy gasped, putting a hand to her chest. Thee in one year? What had the boy been getting into? "I'm afraid I must ask you not to question him about tonight's events. I'll remind you," he continued over her objections, "that he becomes quite agitated with being pressured by questions. Add to that the fact that it will be some days before he regains full control of his magic, and I think it best that we not make an issue of his late night hospital visit." She nodded dumbly, her mind drifting back to the fact that this young boys magic was drastically changing for the third time this year. She would need to monitor him for further developments.


	11. Adventures In Magic

Chapter 11: Adventures In Magic

Harry was aware of the people talking around him, but what was happening in his head was much more interesting. In a situation that was eerily familiar, a part of his mind became home to a second (or third) presence. It spoke quietly to him, guiding his mind through the placement of new knowledge that was even now flowing into him. Images from ages past, places he hadn't been, and overriding everything, a happiness that he couldn't recognize. It went beyond anything he had ever experienced, but shadowing it was sadness, and a sense of loss. Faces untold and unnamed blinked through his memories, and deep voices spoke softly of situations and circumstances. He absorbed it all, deftly placing each item into a space as instructed by his new companion.

He was uncertain as to the exact time that had passed, but he eventually opened his eyes. Putting his glasses on his face, he felt a small tingle at the back of his mind, and a frown formed on his face. Information trickled into his consciousness, and the frown deepened. All over the school, people were locked out of their dorms and rooms. Students repeated the passwords, but the guardian portraits refused to respond. Even the Headmaster could no longer access his office, as he and Professor McGonagall stood outside of the gargoyle trying various spells. He wondered at this new development, and the answer rose in his mind, causing him to groan.

By connecting himself to the castle magically, he had announced himself as its master, basically usurping the power of the Headmaster. The current passwords had been deactivated, awaiting the approval of the new Lord. There was only one place he could fix this, though it would mean sharing his new status. Quickly checking for his wand, which was secure in its holster on his arm, he raced out of the infirmary, amazed at the amount of energy he felt. He ran the entire way to the Headmaster's office, with barely a pant to show my exertion. The two adults standing there were a little surprised, to say the least, but they were about to get another shock.

"I'm afraid that this is my fault, and if you'll give me some room, I'll put things right." The transfiguration professor looked as if she wanted to protest, but Albus gently shooed her to the side. Placing his hands on either side of the gargoyle, he spoke the words now burned into his memory. "_Override authorization Alpha Phoenix 03, Harry Potter. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, control restoration, confirmed._" He felt the magic of the wards slid back into place, but they lacked the last bit to reestablish themselves totally. Turning to the Headmaster, he nodded his head. "Put you hand on the statue and say your name. That should reset everything." The now smiling wizard came forward and placed his hand on the worn surface of his guardian.

"Albus Dumbledore." There was a small surge of energy, followed by the statue moving out of the way to reveal the staircase. Diving into the new part of his mind, Harry was glad to see that the other guardians were responding as well. His body followed the two adults without hesitation while his mind skipped around the school, making sure that everything was as it should be. He was brought back to his physical location by the stilling of murmuring voices. He found himself in the Headmaster's office, and all of the portraits were staring at him. Most, like Armando Dippet, were looking at him with something akin to awe. Phineas Nigellus, however, seemed to be sulking. Harry bowed to them all, and sat in the chair closest the perch of Fawkes. The phoenix, who was in his baby form after his latest burning day, trilled. Harry reached up and took him from the ashes, putting him in his lap. Before he had a chance to speak, there was a laugh from one of the corners.

"I see your line still has all its priorities in order, lad. Minerva is standing there, near ready to strangle you for information, and the first thing you do is comfort the phoenix."

"Well, Arness, the magical shifts that happened today were quite upsetting for him, as he is particularly vulnerable right now." Harry's indignant response was met by more laughter, and he turned his attention back to the small bird in his hand.

"I'm sorry for his attitude, sir and madam. He has yet to introduce himself, am I correct?" They nodded, and the young Headmaster's picture moved to a portrait in the center, pulling himself tall. "I have the honor of presenting Harry James Potter, Chosen of Fate, Lord of Gryffindor."

Harry sat in the chair, answering all of the questions they asked him, mostly about the events of the previous night. When he finally looked at the clock, it was going on 8:30 in the morning. He sighed, which brought an end to the talking.

"Looks like I've missed breakfast. Not that I wanted to go to the Great Hall, but I'm rather starved." Dumbledore opened his mouth, no doubt to offer some solution, when a crack filled the air.

"Harry Potter needs to eat." Floating in the air behind a stack of knitted caps was a tray piled high with food. The Headmaster raised an eyebrow, curious as to what had persuaded the elf to join them, but remained silent. Meanwhile, Harry grabbed the tray and started stuffing his face with wild abandon.

"Thanks Dobby, you're a life saver." The excitable servant bounced with joy and left, obviously proud of his work. Harry made impressive time through the mass amounts of food, so that by 8:50, he had finished the entire tray. Sitting back, he patted his stomach, and addressed McGonagall.

"Well, Professor, I think you should get going. I believe you have class in a few minutes, and I wouldn't want your timely reputation to be tarnished." He ended the sentence with an infectious grin so strong that the stern teachers mouth twitched before she could control herself. "The Headmaster and I have something to discuss." He looked with some surprise at his young charge, as this was the first he had heard of such a matter. What he saw lifted his spirits to a degree he hadn't felt in months. There was a fire in his face that he recognized as part determination, part passion, and part sheer anticipation. He shooed Minerva off to her class and took his seat, preparing for the news.

"Well, Harry, I think I'm ready. Let us begin."

"Good. I'm going to need your full cooperation for this, and if we do it in the right way, not only will we be able to educate the students in basics, we'll also fool our opponents into thinking that's all we know." Taken aback by the commanding and calculating tone that he spoke with, the aged wizard gave his student a penetrating look. There was glint in Harry's eyes that spoke of long planning, and a certain gleeful light came to his face when he spoke of fooling his enemies. "I'm going to reactivate Dumbledore's Army today." Well, though he had been somewhat expecting it, the plain announcement still was somewhat startling. "This way, I can train a core group of talented students in advanced defensive and offensive magic, and not many people will know. Then, those students can pass on the more basic of the skills to the student body at large, and hopefully convince the other side that everyone's that limited. As a bonus, Voldemort's too arrogant to believe that Disarming and Shield charms are much of a threat to him, so the teaching position shouldn't draw too much danger. Of course," he shrugged, "that leaves more resources for their attempts to kill me, but I'm okay with that."

"Well, Harry, I think we can work that out, especially if you choose the one to lead the group."

"Exactly. Now, we need to head out. I still have things to do, and I need to get started while the day is young. Besides, I still have to be in Transfiguration at 1." Harry stood decisively and lead Dumbledore out of his office, not mentioning where they were going, just walking at a calm pace. They reached the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, and the Headmaster watched confused as Harry paced in front of it, muttering to himself slightly.

When the door appeared, he was slightly startled, but not nearly as much as when it was opened. Dark detectors of all types hung on the walls, and bookshelves took up much of the available space A fireplace burned merrily on one side of the room, and over it hung a coat of arms that looked slightly familiar. He tried to remember, but it sat just out of reach in his mind. He was getting old, he knew, but it was depressing to realize it so powerfully. His thoughtful sighing was interrupted by Harry.

"I need you to hold him while I work, because there's going to be some major shifts, and he might panic." Baby Fawkes was placed in his hand, and Dumbledore started, not having realized that the phoenix had been brought along. He gently cupped the creature in his hands, taking a few steps back as he felt the power start to build in the room. Harry was doing something very large here, and he wanted to make sure nothing untoward happened. He drew his wand, and prepared to cast the Grounding Spell, should Harry lose control. It would feel very unpleasant, but that was much better than burn-out. "_Security Protocol activate._"

The light in the room seemed to shiver, and the Headmaster gently stroked the now nervously chirping phoenix in his hand. As the shimmering vanished, he looked back towards his student, and drew a breath in surprise. The hospital pajama's had vanished, to be replaced by a midnight black dress robe with patterns in gold and red. Sword and Phoenix crossed over a swirling flame rested on his back, and another pattern rested over his heart, although it was hard to see.

"_Initiate all security measures, non-combative category. Alpha Phoenix 03 keeper designation, Albus Dumbledore Headmaster fallback designation_." A golden swirl of lights descended on Harry, circling him for a second before sinking into his skin. So intrigued was Albus that he almost failed to notice the silver lights that followed the same procedure with him. The firelight seemed to dim as Harry stood still, his mouth slowly moving in what appeared to be a very precise conversation, although Albus heard nothing. Finally, sound was returned. "_Unlimited duration of measures approved. End Security Protocol modification_." As the light returned to normal and Harry turned to face the others, Albus finally saw the crest on his chest. It was identical to the one that hung over the fireplace, and he finally remembered what it was.

Only the crest of the Gryffindor family held a Lion and a Phoenix embracing a sword between them. And the fact that Harry had it on his chest could mean only one thing. He was the Head of the family. The robe slowly faded from sight, returning the pajama's.

"Well, that's taken care of, so all that's left is the activation." He patted his clothes, and then thumped his head when he realized what he was dressed in. "Of course I don't have it with me. I need my books, some clothes, and my master coin, please." With a thump, a bag of books landed at his feet, and his pajamas were replaced with the school uniform. Oddly enough, Albus noted, the room did not provide his shoes. He paid attention most keenly when Harry pulled a Galleon from his pocket. Waving a hand over it, he studied the numerals at the edge with some satisfaction. "There, we'll be meeting here tonight at around eight." He made to leave and Albus noticed with some surprise that the clock on the wall read eleven thirty. It was time for Harry to head down to lunch, but he had yet to warn him!

"My boy, wait!" When he had his attention, he tried to convey the difficulties he would be facing. "Due to your recent...situation, I'm afraid your magic may be the slightest bit out of control. I would recommend not casting any spells, but that wouldn't go over very well with the Professors. The best I can do is suggest using an anchor of some sort." He was surprised when Harry gave him a winning smile.

"It's already taken care of. Why do you think I'm not wearing shoes?" Albus mouth dropped open as his student slipped out of the door on his way to the Great Hall. It had never occurred to him that the castle itself could be used as an anchor.

Meanwhile, Harry tried his best to keep from running to lunch, as he was filled with so much energy that it was making his hand itch for a wand. The tables of the Great hall were filled with students chatting about their morning lessons, so he was able to slip into a seat beside Hermione without drawing too much attention from those besides the Gryffindors and select students from two of the other houses. Whenever he caught their eye he gave a small nod, which was immediately meet with excited whispering as DA members conferred amongst themselves. He noted with another pang that Ron had chosen to sit with some fifth years, and shook his head. He didn't know what to do about it, but he knew something had to be done. Even now he could feel a strange lightness, something that worried him to no end.

"Harry, what happened this morning? When I went to check on you..." Hermione sounded concerned, but Harry did his best to silence her.

"This is neither the time or place to talk about it. We'll discuss it later." He gave her a small smile and loaded his plate with food, as his activities had left him incredibly hungry. As he ate, the castle slowly filtered information into his mind, helping him keep track of the time, the status of the wards, even the best routes to his next destination. It seemed like no time had passed before Hermione was telling him it was time for Transfiguration. He once more resisted his hopped up urge to bolt past everyone and walked at a sedate pace to the classroom. Once he had a seat, he planted his feet firmly and drew his wand. He was concerned for a moment as the magic surged, but smiled with relief when he felt the excess slip into the floor. He turned his attention to Professor McGonagall, who had started the lesson.

"Today we will be focusing on partial transfiguration." Hermione's hand was up in the air immediately.

"Professor, isn't partial transfiguration the result of a miscast spell?"

"Indeed, Ms. Granger, that is usually the case, but it can also be used as a task that will increase the concentration of the caster. It takes great focus to only use part of an object in the spell, as the incantation remains the same. For example: _Floris_!" The hand sized rock on her desk changed into a flower, but only the top half. The bottom remained the same, giving the impression of a flower in a pot. "As you can see, only my intent made the spell react any differently. Now, I want you to concentrate, and then attempt the spell." Harry watched for a second as Hermione bit her lip, than gave the proscribed movements.

"_Floris_!" To her dismay, the entire stone turned into a beautiful rose. "Drat!" He chuckled at her exclamation.

"I figured as much, Hermione. You're not used to doing anything halfway, so something like this is bound to gave you some trouble." He took careful aim at his stone, making sure his feet were in solid contact. "_Flo­_-" When he felt the chair he was sitting in lean back and his feet become airborne, he tried his best to stop the casting, but the force of the magic was too much for him, and it went out the only way it could- his wand. "_-ris_." He wanted to shut his eyes, but knew that the strong surge that had come from him was nothing but bad news, so he had better fix whatever it was.

It was worse than he thought. Flowers grew from every stone surface available, including the floor, ceiling, and walls. The students struggled to free themselves from the vines that crept up their legs, while hanging plants blocked the windows, casting the room into darkness. He struggled to put his feet back onto the floor, but it wasn't happening. All he felt was the plants writhing around. Panic started to settle in when he realized it. If he couldn't channel the excess power away, who knew what would happen when he cast _Finate._

"Hermione, I need your help." She was slightly occupied by the lily tickling her side, but she turned to him anyway. "I'm having some control issues, as you can obviously see." She rolled her eyes as she smacked a vine that was creeping it's way into her shirt. It retreated immediately. "I need something to channel the extra power so I don't accidentally shut off Hogwarts or something." She shivered at the idea of cutting off one of the wards that protected the school.

"And you want me to ground you." He smiled at her quick thinking and held out his left hand.

"Yeah, just grab my hand and hold on. There shouldn't be anything more than a tingle, but be careful casting spells for a little bit afterwards, okay?" She grabbed his hand and he concentrated on ending _only _the effects of his spell.

"_Finate Incantatem_." He forced the magic down as much as he could, but he could still tell a lot was escaping his grasp. Luckily it filtered through his hand to Hermione, who tightened her grip. He watched as the plants slowly turned back into stones, trying not to let the magic effect anything else. At the end he had managed to control it, but he was pretty exhausted. He asked to be excused and Professor McGonagall let him leave. Hermione watched him go, worried about the slump in his shoulders and Ron watched him trying to ignore the twinge of guilt he felt.


End file.
